Trials of a Seeker
by Sorciere
Summary: Will gets turned into a Seeker. Things really go downhill from there. Semi-serious crack-bunny, rated for a couple of later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Warning to my regular readers: this is so very much not a 'Four' fic, in so many ways. Read the header for your own sanity's sake.

**Updated March '10 with some added details:**

Anon on tfanonkink requested some Seeker!Will dealing with all the fun issues that come with being one of those builds. I probably fail at this request, since this turned out to be more humour and sort of plot than kink, but eh, I have fun writing it, so I'll post it as it gets written. It's good for unwinding with. Also, it's not properly beta'ed, since my poor beta is overworked enough as is *cough* I'll try to aim for a 2-3k-ish word update once a week, but can't promise anything. Link to original request can be found on my Dreamwidth account, linked from my profile.

In short, this story's basically just for the sheer fun of it. I hadn't originally planned an actual plot but one managed to sneak in, anyway. It's (vaguely) plotted out all the way until the end so this fic should at some point have an actual ending and stuff – I hate leaving fics unfinished. For added fun, I recommend 'Flying' by Nice Little Penguins for a soundtrack.

It's rated M for likely TF-style non-sticky smut in future chapters and because I don't think I can get away with three-, four-, and moresomes under a Teen rating. Even if it's mostly implied. Yay, Seekers!

**Title:** Trials of a Seeker

**Pairings:** As it's heading now, Ironhide/Seeker!Will/Ratchet and possible Seeker!Will/Sarah, with some mentioned Ratchet/Ironhide and implied past Prime-getting-it-on-with-Seekers.

**Warning:** Car fetish, Seeker libido and mating drive, flight-kink, and my general fail at writing anything above PG-13. I also tweaked canon a little bit here and there to make it fit better but it shouldn't be anything huge.

**A/N:** The all-mighty Wikipedia states that movie!Starscream is around 31 feet tall. I figured the rest of the Seekers would probably be around the same size, then. I'm not sure about all of the fanon (and canon) view of Seeker culture, so if I messed up something painfully obvious, please forgive me.

* * *

It was not a good day. Getting killed had sucked, and then it had headed downhill from there, and no, it was not a good day at all. He wasn't sure _how _he had found himself in his current situation, because all he remembered was light, and a voice, and the distinct impression that the god of the Cybertronians had a sick, sick sense of humour and a very warped idea of gratitude, and then he was in the infirmary, with Ratchet poking him and suddenly looking a lot less towering than Will was used to.

It had really gone downhill from there.

Oh, sure, the Autobots _looked _alien, but it had _nothing _on the weirdness of suddenly waking up as one. His processors might insist that his new body was perfectly fine, but the rest of his human thought processes were less than happy with the whole thing. The first uncomfortable realisation was that he was an alien robot now. The second was that the weird-aft slag on his back was _wings_, and the third one – discovered as Ratchet let him stand up – was that he was towering.

Not just tall. Towering. His sense of perspective was slagged to the Pit, but some processor or another kindly informed him that he had ten feet on Ratchet, eight feet on Ironhide, and that whenever their resident medic would permit him to see anyone else, he would find himself close to eye-level with Optimus Prime.

The fourth realisation was that while his human mind had firmly decided that his new body could best be summed up as 'ugly as frag', his mech mind was already preening in a really, really uncomfortable way. He was a thirty-foot tall alien robot that apparently transformed into a plane. The last thing he needed was his entirely-too-close-to-being-schizophrenic mind deciding that he was _pretty._

"Sam," Will said as calmly as he could manage – and Primus, it was going to take a while to get used to hearing himself like that – "got brought back from the dead, too. _In his own body. _"

"Sam," Ratchet repeated, in a voice that invited no arguments, "actually _had _a body that could be revived."

Which, granted, was true, and was another reason on the list of why it had really not been a good day. He really, really hated large explosions he didn't cause himself. Fragging worthless Decepticon cowards.

He stared at his hand, flexed alien, metallic fingers as Ratchet watched him and clearly kept an eye on any sign that he was going to freak. Will couldn't blame him. He hadn't even _started _on the fact that his wife thought he was dead and he'd have to explain to her that she was technically married to an alien now, and that wasn't the only uncomfortable thought demanding attention, because slag it all, he wasn't just a Cybertronian, he was a _Seeker._

"Does this make me a 'Con?" he finally asked quietly. He had seen his optics, and they were blue, but...

"A 'Con?" Ratchet repeated, voice questioning, and Will made what passed for a shrug in his new body and tried to make it casual.

"I thought all Seekers were 'Cons by default. They're all on Megatron's side, right?"

Ratchet looked amused at that, which was a nice change from the intense scrutiny Will had been the subject of since he woke up in the infirmary. "Do you feel like a 'Con?"

"... No?"

Still amusement. "Blue optics, Autobot insignia on your wings, no immediate urge to kill innocent beings... I'd say you're clear."

_Oh. _

Another pause, and finally Will got a grip on himself and managed to ask the question that had been nagging him since approximately three seconds after he first laid his brand new optics on Ratchet, and if he had been human, he would have taken a deep breath to steel himself. "So, you going to tell me why the Pit I've got slagging _heating fans _turning on when I think of 'Hide, or Optimus... or you?" he added, because if he had to go for embarrassing, he might as well get it all out in one go.

Ratchet, bless his spark, didn't even look surprised but only pointed at the infirmary bed again. "Sit," he said firmly. "You're going to get a crash course in Seeker programming, and I don't think you're going to like it."

* * *

Not liking it, Will realised about half an hour and several data transfers later, was an understatement. It didn't help that most of his objections were dismissed with the catch-all 'You're a Seeker'. Married and not interested in fooling around? You're a Seeker now. Human mind that does not think mechs are a turn-on at all and which is really uncomfortable with fantasising about the colour of Ratchet's plating? You're a Seeker now. Sudden urge to provoke Ironhide into pinning him to the wall and 'facing him into next week? Well, you're a Seeker now.

Seeker were, apparently, the Cybertronian equivalent of raving nymphos, and there was nothing to do but accept it and get used to the thought, or stay moody and biting about not getting anything. Right back to his teenage years, basically, and Will bit back a snarl as he waited for Optimus and Ironhide to get their afts down to the infirmary. Optimus, because he was in charge, and Ironhide because Ratchet apparently felt that the weapon specialist would be a calming influence as Will adapted to it all. Knowing Bumblebee, he was probably waiting impatiently, too – as much for his own sake as for Sam's – but Will really didn't feel up for facing any more people that he had to.

A pause, and his brain groaned.

Meeting. _Meeting _any more people than he had to.

_Slag it all. _

The doors opened and thirty-two feet of Prime stepped inside, followed by a weapon specialist that looked uncomfortably small to someone who was used to watching him from a human-sized body. He cringed before he could help it, the soft sound of plating sliding against plating, and Optimus Prime gave him a sympathetic look, and only a firm grip on his slagging heating fans kept them from kicking in as core programming reacted to the sheer strength the Prime radiated.

The Seeker programming purred. The human brain groaned.

Seeker programming found his optics lingering on the lines of Optimus Prime's helmet, curved blue that looked sinfully smooth to touch, and Will ruthlessly pushed aside the thought before it could go any further.

It was Optimus Prime, for Pit's sake. _Optimus Prime._

Then his Prime went to talk with Ratchet, and Ironhide crossed the room and if there was any hesitation at all, he didn't show it. Not that Will would have minded. It would have been understandable. He was a Seeker, and Seekers were generally bad news to an Autobot.

"What the slag did you do this time?" the weapon specialist drawled, and Will hadn't even known until then how worried he had been about their reactions, and he shifted, a bit embarrassed.

"Something blew up. We got the building cleared, though."

Which made it worth it. At least, that's what he had figured the moment before it all blew up. Stupid way to die, but none of them had signed up for NEST expecting a safe career, and that was okay, too.

He probably looked stupid, big-aft Seeker ducking his head at the words of a mech about two thirds of his size, but he didn't particular care. Ironhide made him feel human for a while, made him feel normal, and he could add that to the long, long list of things he already had to be grateful for when it came to the dark mech.

It wasn't much, but it was still a distraction, and a moment later his heating fans whirred to life as his attention slipped, and he groaned. Audibly.

Ironhide, bless his spark, merely smirked faintly but didn't comment until after Will had managed, a few painfully long seconds later, to get the fans back under control – and he really, really didn't deserve friends like that, and 'Hide really, really didn't deserve to have Will's new core programming gleefully bring up images of what those strong hands would feel like, and the hum of the cannons as they stroked against his wings, scarred metal following the flawless curves of his new body, caressing wing-tips and lingering on the spot where the wings joined and sensors would spring to life at even the ghost of a touch, and-

"Seeker, huh?" Ironhide finally said, amused, and Will just sighed.

"Seeker," he agreed.

His core programming felt insulted. Will really didn't care.

* * *

Optimus Prime's little talk with Ratchet was a lot shorter than the one Will had gotten, but then, he probably didn't need most of it. If Will had figured Ratchet right, a lot about Seekers was considered common knowledge to most mechs, and the less-known parts about it, Ratchet had apparently not seen fit to tell his Prime.

Will was seriously considering finding someone who delivered gift-wrapped high-grade and get a stack for the medic as a thank you for small mercies.

_You've got two sets of fans,_ Ratchet had said, and Will was grateful for his straight-forwardness, at least. _Cooling fans, which we all have. They cool you down. And then you've got those._ A tap of fingers against his plating, making his point until Will got said fans under control again. _We all have internal heating systems, but heating fans are a Seeker-specific addition. It's a mating display, but it's not common knowledge. Cybertronians experience heat when we feel... attracted to someone. You don't need to be cooled down until things heat up, obviously. Your heating fans bring up your surface temperature just enough to show your interest until your actual body response can take over, and the sound is familiar to mechs as a sign of arousal. It's part of why Seekers have a reputation for having interfacing on their processors. The fans are mistaken for a sign of arousal rather than interest. _A pause, amused. _I'm flattered, really. _

Will had ignored that part of it. So he was a peacock now. Strutting his feathers, while everyone around him assumed he was running around with a constant hard-on. Mech-on. Whatever.

Peachy. Just slagging _peachy. _

_It would be unfortunate to have to spend energy in an emergency on keeping your body temperature down, _Ratchet had continued. _If Seekers were truly in such a constant state of arousal, they would not be as dangerous as they are. It's a sign of interest, a signal that someone is seen as a potential mate and that you would be willing to pursue the idea, but it's only surface plating that heats up, and only enough to get the intent across. _

So Ironhide probably had the idea that being around him made Will worked up because Ironhide was a mech, and Will was a Seeker and Seekers were interface addicts and would do anyone, and he wasn't sure at all that would be an improvement to explain to the mech that it had actually been a very specific response aimed at a potential mate rather than just raving nympho tendencies showing themselves.

Rock and a hard place, really. No wonder Seekers liked to let everyone think they just liked 'facing that much. It left them a lot less vulnerable when people didn't think it was anything they meant that seriously.

_Anything else I should know? _he had asked, just a bit annoyed with the whole thing, and Ratchet had sighed – or what passed for it, in their species.

_Seekers do have their reputation for a reason. While you are not in a near-constant state of arousal as some might think, your core programming _is_ looking for potential mates to spark with, and it _will_ react if you ignore it for too long. To be blunt, Seekers who do not interface regularly become unpleasant to be around. You do not have a trine to assist you in that. I would recommend you keep that fact firmly in your processors. _

He could have objected that he was married, that he didn't find robots a turn-on, that he wasn't going to let programming dictate who the slag he was, but it wasn't what his brain latched on to in the end.

… _Spark with? I'm a chick? _Baffled, utterly baffled, because the few femmes Will had seen were all relatively small for Cybertronians, and he was the size of Optimus slagging Prime, and this was not going well at all, and-

_No, _Ratchet had said, amused. _You're a Seeker. _

And the day had continued downhill after that.

* * *

Two hours later, and Will's day had only improved marginally. The heating fans had reacted to Ratchet, Optimus, and Ironhide. They also seemed to have considered Bumblebee for fraction of a second before deciding against him – and for frag's sake, the scout was barely more than half his size, so thank Primus for small mercies, at least – but still Will had barely managed to suppress a groan.

No reaction around Arcee or Chromia or Flareup – _or the Twins, thank Primus _– all of which his core programming had dismissed as too small and fragile, and those Seeker instincts had seemed baffled by Jolt for a moment before finally, reluctantly, deciding against him as a mate, too, although Will got the distinct impression that those Seeker instincts also wouldn't at all mind a good ol' 'facing with the mech at all. Sideswipe... attractive enough to make Seeker programming downright _purr _in his mind again, and while he got an uncomfortable amount of images of just how very much his programming would like a roll in the hay with the mech, the heating fans stayed off. Too small, even if he was dangerous and competent enough, and Will had sighed and accepted that little mercy, too.

Three mechs he needed to watch himself around, then, and he very firmly pushed the thought of the slagging 'Cons out of his mind, because Seeker programming apparently didn't care much about factions at all, either, and while fantasising about allies was one thing, he was not going to acknowledge the images in the back of his processors that informed him just how very _good _it could be with fellow Seekers, who knew what to touch, what to do; who knew his responses and would spend hours worshipping those wide expanses of beautiful, flawless, sensitive wings and running clawed fingers over delicate sensor nodes, and-

Slag. Slag it all to the _Pit,_ and he was starting to understand why Megatron had all of the flying fraggers. Seeker knew Seeker best, and why make due with only ground-pounders when you could have a trine to bond with; who knew you, who would watch your back, who would bond over purred wing-polishing and send pleasure through your bond when you 'faced with them, and the heating fans whirred to life before he could stop them, and it took Will another few, fumbling seconds to get them back under control again.

Ironhide only gave him an amused look and Will bit back a scowl.

Slag it all to the _Pit, _and when he got his hands on Primus, someone would fragging well pay for the whole Pit-spawned clusterslag.

He had a human wife. He had a daughter. He had a _family,_ and at least Sarah seemed to have a firmer grip on it that he did, an uncertain first look replaced by raw concern and then a dark glare at Optimus Prime before she had all but dragged him away for what Will assumed to be a very firm talk about the situation. He would normally have pitied Optimus for that, but right now the fragger was their most direct link with Primus and thus a handy target for Will's irritation with the slagger, too.

"Fraggers," Will muttered and levelled another scowl at Ironhide. "Stop looking so slagging amused."

Still faint amusement as Ironhide watched him. "What would you prefer, _Will_? You didn't strike me as the type to prefer being pitied and coddled."

A jab at his refusal to pick a designation – his name was _William Lennox,_ how fragging hard could it _be_? Will, or William, or Lennox, or whatever other combination they could think of, and he didn't care, he was _not _picking a Cybertronian name – and Will glared at the mech but didn't really mean it. Ironhide did have a point, and if he had been given more time to come to terms with his new situation, maybe he would even appreciate having someone treat him normally and not give him those wide-eyed looks or speculative glances, or whatever else the other fraggers had done.

And he was getting seriously annoyed. He desperately hoped it was a delayed stress reaction and not Ratchet's warning coming true that soon.

They fell silent again as they watched Diego Garcia and its surroundings from a secluded hangar as Optimus Prime and everyone else tried to keep their new Seeker hidden until they figured out just what to tell to the governments and the humans on base, and when Ironhide spoke again, his voice was surprisingly soft for the mech.

"Could be worse," he said quietly and his optics were staring into the distance as Will turned his head to look at him. "You can fly, you know. Most of us can't. Even when Cybertron was at its brightest, most of us were ground-bound. Fliers of any kind weren't that common, much less Seekers."

There was something in his voice that sounded almost longing and it made Will's anger fade as he turned his head to stare out at sea as well. "I have no one to train me," he said just as quietly, and Ironhide snorted softly.

"If he brought you back as a Seeker, I doubt he'd have left you ground-bound because you didn't know how to fly." A pause. "It's probably mostly instinct. I always knew how to use weapons, too. I got training, sure, but the first time someone handed me a cannon, it felt... right. I knew what to do, I just had to remember it. I learned fast."

_Flying,_ Will realised. He could _fly._ Not a parachute jump, not stuck inside a plane, but actually _fly,_ and every instinct in his body sang at the realisation and made him look up at the vast emptiness of the sky above them, just waiting for a Seeker to tear through the freezing air up there and leave intricate patterns of turbulence as it skimmed across clouds.

A hesitant look at Ironhide – just shy of four tons, shorter, more compact than Will's new body, and he wondered just how much he would be able to lift as he flew – and he kept a firm mental grip on his fans as his core programming let him know in no uncertain terms that it approved of the idea, Ironhide pressed hard against his body as they tore through the air together, the exhilaration of being the first to introduce the ground-mech to the wonders of flight-

- And Will bit back a tired sigh and kept the grip on his heating fans and pretended not to notice the questioning look Ironhide gave him.

Out of all the mech-builds, he just had to end up in the sex-obsessed one, and a moment later his new body agreed as Ironhide shifted, the sound of heavy plating sliding, moving, old scars won in battle catching the light of the sun, and his heating fans picked up again before he could stop it, drawing a groan from the new Seeker.

"You have a sick, sick god," he muttered.

And Ironhide laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

Will had wondered once if Cybertronians dreamt. Did androids dream of electric sheep, and all that. Judging by his first recharge, the answer was a resounding no, and he was more relieved than he cared to admit. The Seeker part of his brain had been entirely too interested in the smell of Ironhide's cannons and the play of sunlight in the curved metal, and he had been honestly worried that going into recharge would mean a whole night of the Cybertronian equivalent of wet dreams.

He wasn't sure he could have looked Ironhide in the optics if that had happened. Him, or Prime, or Ratchet, because being away from Optimus Prime for most of the day had done nothing to keep down the unwanted and very, very graphic images of being pinned by the larger mech and the feel of strong hands playing with his wings as he mewled and arched into the touch and submitted to the demands of his Prime.

At least he could sort of ignore the thoughts and push them aside when he was awake. Enough, at least, to keep from wanting to sink into the ground whenever he saw one of the three.

"Transforming should come natural to you," Ratchet explained where they stood on an old runway, far away from curious eyes and with only Ironhide for company to avoid crowding Will. "Take your time with your first attempts. Don't rush it. You don't want to damage something important."

Will nodded, and whatever curiosity Ratchet felt, he hid it well – and Will damn well _knew_ he was curious. Everyone was – even Sideswipe, distant and reserved that he might be – because Will was a Seeker, and Primus himself had sent him back in that body, and none of them knew what his alt-mode would look like.

The knowledge appeared instinctively, his body moving before he could even think about it, and he was torn between feeling sick at the way his body twisted apart and fascinated by the play of it all as it slid together to create something new, and when it was done, he was a lot closer to ground level and Ironhide let out a soft, admiring sound that would probably have been a whistle if he had been human.

"Cybertronian." He moved closer and put a hand on Will's plating and the sudden surge of energy as they connected was enough to make Will jerk and Ironhide take a step back. He paused, and then he chuckled. "Touchy."

Will shifted uncomfortably and suddenly understood what Ratchet had meant about the necessity of cooling fans, and if Ironhide was giving him a speculating look, Will firmly ignored it.

"Cybertronian jet," Ratchet agreed and moved closer as well, and this time Will got a warning before careful fingers brushed against his wings, and he kept a firm grip on himself and whatever instinctive reaction it was that Ironhide's touch had triggered, although he couldn't quite stop the silent purr that coursed through his systems at the touch.

"Almost a pity we'll have to find him an alt-mode from here," Ironhide murmured. A pause, and then he reached out and brushed his hand against the metal again, and Will still kept a firm grip on his reaction to it. It was easier now that he knew what to expect, but it didn't mean it wasn't annoying to have to keep his reactions on a leash like that.

The Seeker programming in him preened at the obvious admiration, pleased to be confirmed in his attractiveness. The human part very firmly ignored the same, because while he was a guy and part of the military and had most guys' natural appreciation of big machines, said admiration from his allies on the runway definitely went just a bit past casual appreciation.

"Prime is waiting," Ratchet commented in an almost-question, and Will sent his agreement through his communication system. Their Prime was as curious as any of them, but Ratchet had kept him away until they were sure nothing would go wrong and Will wouldn't freak, and now he was waiting with his usual patience somewhere nearby.

His communication system listened in as Ratchet passed on the okay to their Prime – good practice in getting used to his new systems, the medic had said, and Will was grateful. His Seeker programming might know exactly what he was doing but his human mind was still hopelessly overwhelmed.

The Peterbilt appeared at the end of the runway and all three of them waited in silence until it arrived and transformed in one smooth motion, a blur of blue and red as Optimus Prime stood. This time Will knew what was coming, too, and he had the heating fans turned off before they could even start. It did nothing to help on the mental images, of course, but it kept his embarrassment to a minimum and he took his victories where he could get them.

Will felt Optimus Prime's optics move over him, taking in every detail of the graceful body, and then the mech nodded. "It has been a long time since I have last seen a sight like this outside of battle," he said softly, and the hand that touched his wing was gentle and affectionate, less about tracing the smooth curves of the jet shape and more about simple, physical contact. His programming responded immediately, and only Will's firm control of the fans kept the wing from heating up underneath the gentle touch. He couldn't quite stop the energy surge, though, and small electric charges danced under Optimus Prime's fingers until Will ruthlessly reined them in. His Prime, ever polite, said nothing but simply stepped back.

"Can you fly?" he asked. It was aimed at Will but he did send Ratchet a questioning look as well, and the medic shrugged.

"There's no medical reason why he shouldn't be able to."

A look at Will, and his systems answered before he could even consider the question, an affirmative response joined with a brief data-burst for the medic with a quick diagnostic of his systems.

Optimus Prime didn't move for a moment, and if Will had been human he would have held his breath as he waited for the verdict, and then his Prime nodded slowly and the simple gesture released the sudden tension in Will's systems.

"A short attempt, to begin with," he decided. "Can you hover?"

Five tons of Cybertronian jet responded instantly, and the roar of his engines would have been deafening if he had been human. As it was, it was enough to make his onlookers step back under the assault of sound and power, and Will's sensors picked up the distinct sound of tarmac cracking under him as he carefully let go of the ground and hovered twenty feet above the ruined runway. He could have controlled the power in his engines, could have kept it at a far lower level and still hovered just fine, but the sheer thrill of raw power and the roar of it all was intoxicating and Seeker instincts purred in approval.

The sky spread endlessly above him and with it came the knowledge that there were no limits, nowhere he couldn't go, nobody that could outrun him, and he suddenly _understood, _and every part of his body sang with the knowledge. Seekers didn't have egos, Seekers weren't vain, Seekers simply knew their place on the top of the food chain and acted accordingly, and Will couldn't help it. Seeker programming took over, demanded attention, promised freedom if he would let it loose, and he heard Ratchet's roar even as the thunder of his engines grew louder.

"_**Rein him in!**_"

Confusion – rein in, why, he was _enjoying_ it, he was a Seeker, this was who he _was_ – and then something took a painful hold on his left wing and he tumbled and engines cut out in an instinctive precaution and he hit the ruined tarmac hard, an angry screech torn from him, demanding vengeance even as he transformed.

Blazing blue optics met the icy cold of Ironhide's, and Will's instincts faltered for a moment, torn between anger and lust – the mech was strong enough, daring enough, to tear a Seeker out of the sky, and it could be forgiven in the interest of claiming a worthy mate – and then strong hands gripped him and he found himself staring at Optimus Prime instead, strong and dominant and unyielding.

"Stand _down_, soldier."

The smell of burned tarmac, of jet engines and alien fuel, and Seeker programming faltered again before it yielded and submitted, and Will lowered his head and powered down his engines completely.

_Holy slag,_ the human part of him whispered, and the Seeker parts trembled from the sheer _pleasure_ of it all, and Will suppressed a shudder as he found himself under Optimus Prime's unyielding gaze.

"He's a Seeker, all right." Ironhide, chuckling again, and those same Seeker parts fairly _purred_ at the thought of someone who could pluck a Seeker out of the sky and come out of it able to joke about it, too, and if Ironhide was trying to help, it was _really_ the wrong way to do it.

His Prime sent Ironhide a look, and then turned his attention back to the Seeker in his grasp. "That would be enough for today. We will try again tomorrow. We will know what to expect, then." The '_and hopefully give him time to gain better control of himself'_ remained unspoken, but Will heard it just fine, anyway, and could have told the mech to spare himself the trouble.

There was Seeker programming you could fight and Seeker programming you couldn't. One brief taste of flight, and he could have told any one of them that his reaction to it belonged in the latter category. He'd fight the constant, nagging instinct to find a good mate, the graphic images, and the bad mood that was sure to come with the lack of 'facing, but this was something else entirely. Flight programming couldn't be fought, and with the thrill of it all still coursing through his system, Will was pretty sure he wouldn't have tried to, either.

Primus had sent him back as a Seeker, and William Lennox intended to fly.

---------------------------

"He has suffered no injuries from his... test flight," Ratchet reported later that day, in the privacy of Optimus Prime's office. "His paint was scratched from Ironhide's intervention but easily fixed. Beyond that, he is undamaged. Seekers are not as frail as the wings might give the impression of."

Their Prime nodded as he took a look at the full report of the incident, and then he made a soft sound. "He has no experience with his new build," he said, and Ratchet knew him well enough to read between the lines.

Translated, _What are we supposed to do with him?_

"We can't keep him grounded," Ratchet said, because he had spent quite a while after the morning's display considering just that question. "You expect him to obey orders simply because he is a soldier and you are his commanding officer. That is not the case anymore. There is obviously still human understanding and thought processes in his mind, but his core programming is that of a Seeker, and eventually, he will obey Seeker instincts. Two days, Prime, and it's already taking over. He's trying – for your sake, maybe, or for Ironhide, or his bonded – but the fact remains that he is no longer a human but a Seeker, and his new programming will eventually come out in full force. No one can fight their core programming forever and I will not ask him to try."

Hesitation and a brief flicker of guilt across expressive features – it had been Optimus Prime's orders that had put the human in the targeted building to begin with, and even if none of them could have predicted the attack that followed, he knew their Prime well enough to expect guilt, anyway – and optics flicked to the data-pad for another moment.

"His bonded?" he finally asked. The woman was in one of the old hangars with their new Seeker, and Ratchet had privately been impressed with how she had handled it – for better and for worse, indeed, even if she was technically a widow now, but she seemed willing to fight, and she wasn't alone in that.

"He is a Seeker. He cannot consider her a mate anymore, his very core programming would prevent it, but he considers her kin," Ratchet replied, with the ghost of amusement at the memory. "He crooned at her. It's a sign of strong affection. If she can accept that – and observations would suggest so – the situation may work itself out. He will consider her kin and protect her as such for the rest of his existence. A sibling, perhaps, or a bonded companion, if not an actual mate anymore. If they can accept those roles, it would not be a bad solution. As for their young offspring, we are both familiar with Seeker instincts. You know as well as I do that he will guard her with his life."

Optimus Prime nodded and his relief was obvious. Ratchet had felt about the same when he had realised the situation seemed to work itself out, too. Even putting aside the mental health of their new Seeker and his former mate, their Prime had enough to weigh on him without adding anything more to his burdens.

"Then what is your recommendation?"

Ratchet paused in uncharacteristic hesitation. He knew Seeker programming well enough to make it work for him when needed, but he wasn't sure if his leader would agree with that idea. "He is a Seeker. Let him fly, Optimus. He was meant for the skies. The longer we keep him grounded, the more affected he will be." Optimus Prime looked like he was about to object, but Ratchet continued before he had the chance. "Yes, it may be dangerous. We assume based on the display this morning that he was brought back with the knowledge of how to do it, and with no one around to train him, we have to trust that Primus has taken it all into account. It may be dangerous, but he is still a Seeker, and keeping him grounded is not an option. Rather let him get used to flight in a controlled situation than let him take off on his own."

"Seekers," Prime pointed out, "do not take orders well. You saw that, too. He would have taken off, had we not stopped him."

"Seekers," Ratchet corrected, "take orders if you _give_ them. _Command_, for Primus' sake! You are our last living Prime. If you give him orders as a soldier because you remember him as such, Seeker instincts will fight because they do not take orders obviously meant for mere mortals. _Command,_ Prime, and he will obey. Seekers obey a strong trine leader without question. He will do the same if you _show_ that strength." A pause, almost amused. "Even Starscream, who considers himself a god in the sky – and with good reason, we all know that – will obey Megatron in the end. He will plot and scheme and turn on him in an instant if he sees the chance but in the end, he yields in his presence. When Megatron commands strongly enough, even Starscream obeys."

"I am not Megatron," their Prime said quietly, almost unsettled by the idea, and Ratchet nodded.

"You are not, nor will you need to be. Megatron commands a trine leader who does not _want_ to obey him – and not just any trine leader, but quite possibly one of the best to ever have claimed the skies of Cybertron. Will may be a Seeker but he still respects you and still considers you his superior. You are right that you are not Megatron, nor is William much like Starscream. Will _wants_ to follow you. If you command him as a _Seeker_, he will obey. That, too, is in his programming."

Their Prime still looked vaguely unsettled by the whole idea, but he didn't object, and for now, that was good enough for Ratchet.

---------------------------

One recharge later, and Will was already going stir crazy. Part of it, he knew, was the fact that he had gotten a taste of flight, just enough to let him know just how much he had been missing, and then been told to stand down and keep his aft on the ground. The other and no less important part was the fact that while they had told him they would continue the following morning, Will wasn't going to believe it until he saw it.

Optimus Prime had not been happy. Seeker programming was snarling at that – he was a _Seeker,_ flight was what he _did,_ pathetic, jealous ground-pounders – but his human mind understood and even regretted it to some extent. Not the flight itself, but the fact that he had little chance or desire to keep his flight programming under control and that by extension, odds were that he would defy his orders again. If they stuck to simply letting him hover in the air like a sparkling, he seriously doubted there was anything he could do to just keep from taking off. Ironhide had stopped him once, but he had been distracted by the sheer _thrill_ of it all at the time and hadn't really been paying attention. Bringing him out of the air when he was simply hovering was one thing. Doing so when he was in actual flight would be something else entirely, and Will really didn't want to hurt Ironhide on accident if the mech felt forced to do it again.

This morning, it was the same old, out-of-sight runway he had ruined in his first attempt, but it wasn't just Ratchet and Ironhide and Optimus Prime around. Two fire engines nearby and human emergency crews – as if they could do much if he really crashed, Seeker programming snorted – and Will had watched everything silently and not allowed himself to hope, even when he had realised that Diego Garcia air control had been briefed on the situation and would be keeping an eye on the situation.

He remained silent even when Optimus Prime gave him a level look, and he still didn't dare to hope, because his Prime hadn't looked happy about the previous day's attempt at all, and he didn't trust himself not to say anything he would regret.

"You are a Seeker now and I will not keep you grounded, but you are still unfamiliar with your abilities. Therefore, there has been issued a temporary flight restriction in our airspace for the day," Optimus Prime finally stated, and there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there the day before. "You will not cross outside of Diego Garcia airspace. Your will provide continuous system updates to Ratchet, and the human air control will keep watch over the situation to ensure no aircrafts enter the restricted zone and to warn you if weather conditions turn unfavourable."

The voice left no room for arguments, and Will bowed his head slowly in agreement. Twelve nautical miles in every direction wasn't a lot of room, but it was more than he could ever have hoped for in his current situation, and engines were warming up before he was even aware his processors had given the order.

His Prime hesitated for a moment, and then he took a step back and gestured at the runway that spread out ahead of them. "You may take off when your systems are ready."

He was spoken to as a Seeker, and it was Seeker programming that responded, and he transformed mid-motion without even thinking about it, massive engines igniting with a roar before he hit the ground, and tarmac became a blur under him and was gone an instant later, and then there was nothing but blissful, endless _sky. _Seekers weren't planes, Seekers were _Seekers,_ and Seekers didn't need pre-flight checks, and Energon sang in fuel-lines and circuits as he spun through the air, up turning down turning up and he _laughed_ as his speed picked up faster than any human jet could have done.

He left the sound barrier behind a moment later and kept climbing, and a voice tore through his communication systems, only vaguely familiar to processors already half-gone in the thrill of the flight.

"Lennox!" Ironhide, annoyed and worried and snarly, and Will made another triumphant spin and felt air scream by his wings.

"Twelve nautical miles in every direction, Ironhide," he laughed and kept climbing, and the sound of his purr joined the roar of his engines. "Every direction except _up!_"

Mach two and his engines _sang_ and still there was no limit, and still he kept climbing because he was a Seeker, and Seeker wings wouldn't melt in the heat of the sun, and his systems kept up the silent data-bursts to Ratchet, all telling the same thing – that their Seeker was fine, that his systems were fine, that he knew what he was doing, because this was what he was _born_ to do and instincts guided him better than conscious thought ever could have.

Ironhide snarled something on the line, and on a whim Will reached out and found a tentative bond between them. Ironhide's doing, he knew, from when Will had been human; a way to keep track of a small, vulnerable ally in battle, and it was only now, as a Cybertronian with a spark of his own, that he could feel it in return.

Glowing softly in his mind, vague warmth joining the heat from the Energon that pumped through his body, and Seeker programming reached out and completed the bond that the mech probably wasn't even aware was there, and it was confirmed an instant later as surprise and confusion flooded the bond.

So close to Mach three, and finally he found the limits of his new body but the brief, angry disappointment was gone again a second later, lost in the sheer thrill of endless sky and feeling the temperature rise again around him as freezing, thin air slowly warmed again, and the sky above him slowly darkened.

_Fly with me, old one,_ he purred, and floodgates opened and sent waves of flight-borne ecstasy through their bond.

Speed, joy, _freedom_, air against strong wings, unchallenged supremacy and dominance, and he raked mental fingers through Ironhide's circuits, images of merged sparks and the overwhelming heat of their joined overload scorching against the still-rising temperature around him, and then the last bits of coherent thought vanished as Ironhide reached back and the world exploded.

Engines screamed as heat flooded back, frustration and pride and white-hot demand burning through his every circuit as Ironhide returned the favour and reclaimed control, and the purr that followed was dark and low.

_Clever little Seeker._

Energy danced across his wings, his weapons, left scorching marks that turned freezing an instant later, and he shuddered as his far more experienced partner sent images through the bond, promised retribution and pleasure to rival his rush of flight, but it was not enough, never enough, and Ironhide clearly knew it as a chuckle followed, and the Seeker screamed its frustration to the stars above.

_Get your aft on the ground again before Optimus paces a hole in the runway,_ Ironhide purred. _And maybe we'll continue this later._

Hesitation – flight, Ironhide, speed, pleasure, _freedom_ – and then he cut the engines and let himself drop in freefall as he turned. Still-hot engines kicked back in a moment later with a shattering roar and the endless blue and white of sea and clouds spun closer in breathtaking speeds and he laughed at Ironhide's sharp gasp as he fed every last emotion through their bond.

Straight down, a dark silver blade that cut through the sky, and clouds came closer and the world turned white, dark, humid; wings and turbulence drawing patterns behind him, and Ironhide's voice cut through his lust-addled processors.

"You're going too fast, Lennox. Pull up." Almost amused, but still an order, still unyielding, and it wasn't his Prime, but it was _Ironhide_ and Seeker programming hesitated.

Six thousand feet and he was out of the clouds again, ground screaming closer, and he spun, turned sharply, and powerful engines roared and then calmed as he relented and slowed and traced the outer limit of Diego Garcia's airspace in a lazy corkscrew pattern, slowing and watching with silent fascination as the island below him grew bigger, more detailed, and he could make out the distant runway they had chosen for him.

Not much faster than a human aircraft approaching for landing, instincts objecting to the pathetically slow pace, but Will ignored it all and took in the green and white and grey of the narrow island instead.

His Prime would not be pleased, and Ratchet would probably lecture him, but at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. The steady beat of lazy swirls of heat remained in the still-tentative bond with Ironhide, and as the runway came into view, that was all that mattered.

Three mechs on the runway, fire engines, emergency crews – he had probably rattled the whole base, like a proper Seeker _should –_ and optics focused on the black shape that watched him approach, the play of sunlight on gleaming metal and the relaxed stance that betrayed nothing but what he wanted to show.

And through their bond, the Seeker purred.


	3. Chapter 3

An hour later found Will in the infirmary – again – and waiting restlessly for Ratchet to finish his check-up. A week ago, patience wouldn't have been a problem, but Seeker instincts didn't do sitting still, and human mind and Seeker programming had yet to reach a compromise on that issue... or more others, for that matter.

Like food. He was a Cybertronian and every bit of programming told him that the Energon he had been given might not be high-grade but was still good. The human part of him had just sighed and wished for a pizza. His new body and his old mind didn't get along on a lot of issues, and Will really didn't look forward to getting used to it all.

Issues like Ironhide, although it wasn't just the Seeker part attracted to him now, but that thought was interrupted as Ratchet reappeared and honed in on the restless Seeker with a precision that would have made Starscream envious – and he was really not comfortable with the admiration his new programming seemed to have for the Decepticon Second in Command, and he desperately hoped that ignoring it would make it _go away_ before it got any worse.

"You've got the human crews in awe of you," the medic snorted. "And Prime stuck between reprimanding you for that stunt you pulled or acknowledging that you technically kept the word of the agreement and showed a remarkable level of skills in the process."

Will looked down for a moment, watched his new bird-like feet and legs, and then looked up again and shrugged and settled for plain honesty. "I have no excuse. I took a look at the sky, and next thing I'm off and it's... like nothing else. Nothing. We all think that Starscream and the rest of his trine have issues, but I don't. Not anymore. It's in their programming. You're up there, and it's like a drug. You're a god. Unchallenged and undefeated." A pause, and when he continued, it was a lot quieter, forcing out words his Seeker programming struggled desperately against. "I can't fight it, Ratchet. I'll do it again given the chance. If you want to keep me ground-bound, you have to lock me up, and you have to do it soon, or I'll be fighting it every step of the way. I'll go quietly now if you want me to, but I can't promise tomorrow, or the day after that."

Ratchet watched him for a long moment, and Seeker programming twisted as it realised the medic might just seriously be considering the suggestion, and his voice gave nothing away as he finally answered. "You're a Seeker."

_Seekers are meant for the sky, Seekers are claustrophobic, Seekers can go mad if they're grounded_, hung unspoken in the air, because Ratchet had experience with Seekers and some things were just well-known about them.

"I know," Will said quietly, to both the spoken and the unspoken remarks. "I'm also William Lennox, and I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Give the order and I'll go. You're still my superior officer."

Lock up, toss away the key because his Prime and the ground-pounders were too _scared_ of what a Seeker could do, and programming struggled in his mind even as he forced it aside, and still Ratchet watched, and maybe it was a test, but he had too much to think about already and he couldn't deal with anything else.

A gentle hand against his face plates, causing heating fans to almost switch on again, and Will looked up, unaware that he had even looked away to begin with.

"I would not lock up a Seeker," Ratchet said quietly. "I already recommended to Prime that we let you fly. Your offer is noted but will not be accepted."

Relief, gratitude, _dread_, because there would be nothing to hold back the Seeker anymore, and Will finally spoke the words that had lingered in the back of his mind since he had woken up.

"I'm scared."

Silence, and Will continued as he looked down again. "I'm scared slagless. I can feel it take over and there's nothing I can do. I can see what I'm doing, I can tell myself I shouldn't do it, but I can't do anything to stop it. Three days, Ratchet. You saw what happened today. There's going to be nothing left of me when this is done. Just a Seeker... and a future Decepticon whenever it gets around to defecting, because I'm starting to understand why Megatron has all the Seekers and it scares the slag out of me, too."

Strong fingers gripped his chin and Will looked up, startled. "That won't happen." Fierce, determined, and he wanted so badly to believe it as Ratchet continued. "Seekers have strong programming but they still have personalities, just like the rest of us. Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp... they all have their own personalities. Unpleasant ones, perhaps, but personalities nonetheless. You will still be William Lennox. You simply need to learn to merge the programming with the person you were."

"You sound sure about that," Will said quietly. "Got any case studies to back that up?"

"No, but I trust that Primus wouldn't send you back just to let you watch yourself become nothingness in the face of Seeker programming," Ratchet said firmly. "_Fight,_ Lennox. You didn't back down to Blackout, or even your own government when you felt they were in the wrong. Don't tell me you're going to let one little bit of coding break you."

"It's not that easy," Will said, but even then he still felt a bit better. He trusted their medic, trusted that he knew what he was talking about, and even if the fight looked hopeless, he was still going to try. He could do that much, at least.

"I know."

Will got the impression that Ratchet really did know, and then the medic let go of him and straightened, looking distinctly amused.

"You suffered no injuries from your little stunt. If anything, I'd say you're in better shape now than you were yesterday. Your body is adapting to itself."

Which was... good. Probably. Will wasn't sure, because if there was nothing physical that needed fixed, he would have entirely too much time to consider his various mental issues instead, and Ironhide ranked pretty high on that list.

"Asking for help is not a weakness, Will. You don't have to fight alone," Ratchet pointed out, and Will snorted.

"I know." And slag it all, he might as well go with honesty for that, too, and the words were biting as he continued. "What do you want me to say? That I apparently had the mech equivalent of a really good long-distance make-out session fifty-six miles above Diego Garcia? That I have vivid fantasies of making Ironhide prove his strength to me? Of my body pinned under Prime's stronger built, and your hands systematically seeking out every sensor node on my wings? Because I do. Every slagging time I let my thoughts drift around you, every slagging time I lose focus, that's what I see, and I know I'm a Seeker now, but I'm also still human somewhere in the back of my mind, and that part of me is not comfortable fantasising about giant robots." A pause, and if he had been human, he would have taken a deep breath. "This is my fight, Ratchet. I wouldn't undo this if I could, because I can do a lot of good like this if I can make it work, but I'm not going to pretend it's all fine, either. I can cope with this part of it, but it's my fight, not anyone else's."

"I understand your reasoning, but the offer stands," Ratchet said, and there was a flicker of bemusement across his features. "Why me, though? I'm flattered, don't get me wrong, but while I understand your programming deciding on Ironhide and Prime... why me? I'm a medic. Seekers look for fighters."

Seeker programming murmured in the back of his mind, the answer instantly there without even trying, and Will passed it on, because he owned Ratchet that much, at least.

"You're a front-line medic," he said. "Skilled. Not afraid of war. Seekers go after fighters because they're strong and skilled. So are you, in a different way."

Ratchet nodded thoughtfully, and Will stared at his hands again, metal fingers moving absently.

_Fight._

Seeker programming fighting against what remained of his human mind and personality, and the body didn't help at all on it – purely Cybertronian, right down to the Autobot insignias on his wings, and maybe that was part of the problem, too. There was nothing physically human left. Nothing he could hold on to.

_Fight, Lennox._

Ironhide had a scar, Starscream had Cybertronian glyphs written on him in some mech equivalent of tattoos, and there was a hazy idea somewhere in his mind, and he struggled to grasp it as he looked at Ratchet again.

"How did Starscream get his markings?" he asked.

And the idea took shape.

---------------------------

When Ironhide saw his human-turned-Seeker partner again, it took his processors a moment to pick up on the fact that something was different. Well, more different than the fact that they had a Seeker in their midst now, and Ironhide paused as his optics really took in what he saw.

"NEST," he said, and it was a statement more than a question.

The familiar NEST insignia added underneath the Autobot insignia on either wing, and Ironhide knew real etchings when he saw them. For a moment he wasn't sure how to react – Will Lennox was an Autobot now, and while Ironhide had carried the NEST insignia as well on occasion, it had always been a temporary addition and never a permanent brand like the one Will now wore – and then he decided to handle it like he handled everything else: the straight-forward way.

"Must've hurt like slag," he commented.

Will shrugged, and experience told Ironhide that his wings were probably still sore, although he didn't let it show. "It did."

A pause. "Why?"

Will gave him a defiant look. "Because I'm not going down without a fight, Ironhide. I might be turning schizophrenic, I might be losing my mind, I might be losing _myself,_ but I'm not going to just let it happen. I'm going to fight, 'Hide. Kicking and snarling every step of the way. I was human before Primus decided to mess around with things. I'm not going to forget that without a fight."

Maybe he expected an argument, but if he did, he was in for a disappointment as Ironhide settled for a shrug. "That explains why you took so long with Ratchet." He had almost used the tentative bond to contact their wayward Seeker, but hadn't. He was aware to some degree that there were two personalities in there and that Lennox-the-human needed time. The Seeker had been the one to make advances during the fight, but the one he was dealing with right now was obviously the human, and furthermore, the human was just as obviously struggling. It wasn't something Ironhide had considered until then, but it made several pieces fall into place to complete an image he did not want to see.

There was a distinct difference between the way the Seeker moved and the way Will carried himself, but there were signs that the difference was becoming less pronounced, and most of it was Seeker-behaviour taking over. Part of the flight _had_ been Lennox, even if the Seeker had been dominant, but a lot of what Ironhide saw now was very much Seeker behaviour. The voice was human, the word choice and personality was human, but the Seeker was lurking just beneath the surface.

Ironhide wasn't one to linger on what he couldn't change, and he was realistic enough to appreciate a new Cybertronian fighter in place of a human – even if said human had been a close friend – but he still found himself hoping rather strongly that the human personality would remain, and not just for the former human's sake, either. To see a good friend brought back had been a miracle from Primus, but the more he learned, the less miraculous it looked for the human mind stuck in a Seeker body as programming took over.

_Like getting reprogrammed,_ Ironhide realised as the new etchings began to make an uncomfortable amount of sense. _Losing yourself one bit of coding at a time._

The wings were interesting in ways that he hoped he would get the chance to explore in detail at a later time and the opportunity to train against a Seeker wasn't one he would pass up if offered, but not if the price of it was watching a brother in arms fall to pieces until nothing remained but another Seeker like Starscream's trine. Not if it was knowing that said brother in arms was aware of it, too, and fighting a losing battle against it every step of the way.

Decision made, Ironhide reached out and grasped the Seeker's arm in a firm grip, and still-unfamiliar features looked startled for a moment before determination took over and Will returned the gesture, fingers gripping hard as they found at least a bit of an anchor in the storm.

Neither said anything, and they didn't need to, and when they finally let go again, Ironhide gestured at the hangar behind him. "Prime's looking for you."

Will hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded and followed Ironhide towards the familiar office.

---------------------------

The Seeker programming was mercifully dormant as Will stepped inside the office, only a slight purr in the back of his mind in reaction to their Prime. The flight and the etchings seemed to have kept the programming low-key for the time being, at least, and maybe he could actually get some work done with a clear head.

He would have stood at ease, but his new build wasn't really made for that sort of thing, and instead he merely let his hands rest at his side and waited silently for the verdict.

The silence stretched for long minutes, and Will was acutely aware of Ironhide standing unmoving behind him, a silent protector to their Prime, and Seeker programming slowly began to stir again. It would take so little for the mech to reach out and touch his wings, so many sensors nodes within reach, such wide expanses of smooth, flawless, sensitive wings, and Will forced the thought aside before it could go any further.

"What am I going to do with you?" Optimus Prime finally said and broke the increasingly uncomfortable silence. "You technically did not break our agreement, but Ratchet let me understand that I will need to learn to command a Seeker properly if I wish to avoid unfortunate loopholes in my orders in the future."

If Will had been human, he would have taken a deep breath. As it was, he stood a bit straighter instead, because whatever happened, he was not going to back down to his new programming. Not while he could still fight. "The nice option or the practical one, sir?"

It might have been surprise in their Prime's features, but it was gone again an instant later. "Would you like to tell me the difference between them?"

Will shrugged. "Nice option – I stick around, get used to being a Seeker, fight it for as long as I can. Might even succeed in getting control of it eventually, but as it looks now, I wouldn't bet on that." A pause, and when he looked at their Prime again, there was a silent dare in his eyes. "Practical option? You accept the fact that my Seeker programming is probably going to take over eventually and you'll be stuck with a rogue Seeker likely to go 'Con, and you use the time until then to send me on missions. If we're lucky, I'll get myself offlined, and treason won't even be an option."

Silence. Silence and a pause as Optimus Prime really _watched_ him and saw past the wings for possibly the first time since Will had woken up in the infirmary, and he resisted the urge to sigh.

"You're a leader, Prime," Will said instead. "Don't try to tell me you've managed to hold your own against the 'Cons for this long without getting familiar with the dirtier side of war. I've heard the term 'Special Ops' thrown around here once or twice, and I'm going to guess that it's not that different from the human version most times. We might not be anywhere near as technologically advanced a species as you are, but we know dirty warfare. We've done pretty much nothing else through the entire human history."

Still silence, and slag it all, it still felt wrong to be close to eye-level with their Prime, and then the mech nodded slowly. "We have had... some. It does demand a certain type of mech." A pause, quieter. "Jazz was one."

_Jazz_. Will could see that, somehow – good with infiltration, much better at adapting to cultures than the rest of the Autobots from what little Will knew about the mech he had only ever seen briefly before Megatron had torn him apart. He would have been a good Special Ops agent, and Will found himself nodding in turn. A damn good agent, even, and even if it was all Will would ever know about those Special Ops missions the Autobots had been behind, it was enough to tell that Optimus Prime did know his way around the nastier aspects of war and that he accepted their necessity, too. Out of the original five Autobots, Jazz had been their Prime's Second in Command. No leader who refused to acknowledge those shadow agents would have done something like that.

"I do not, however, believe you offer this for the right reasons," their Prime continued, and Will froze almost imperceptibly. "Ratchet briefed me on your suggestion to him. I do not intend to let you throw your life away on a whim."

Will hesitated, but their Prime's look was unyielding and finally he nodded tiredly. "Just... stop me before I hurt anyone. I wouldn't be this slagging worried if I thought I could control it."

"I know." Optimus Prime looked sympathetic for a moment, and then he nodded as well, all business again. "You will need an Earth-based alt-mode before we can allow you outside of Diego Garcia's airspace. When you have narrowed down a selection, I will contact our liaison, and we-"

"F-22," Will interrupted. "Sir. I want an F-22."

A long pause as Optimus Prime watched him. "Like Starscream and his trine."

Will could imagine Ironhide's frown behind him, but he didn't back down as he held their Prime's gaze. "Yes. I looked at the specs when I had too much time to go stir crazy. The 'Con Seekers would have picked the best they could find. I agree with their choice. With the insignias and the NEST etchings, you shouldn't have a problem telling me apart from them in battle, and I can get a different paint job, too, if you want. I don't need to hide the same way they do."

Another long pause, enough to make Will wonder if their Prime was starting to reconsider the offer he had made at first, and then the mech finally nodded. "I concur."

_He did?_

Will's surprise must have shown, because Optimus looked faintly amused for a moment. "I will make arrangements with our liaison today. It should arrive tomorrow, then. The sooner you become used to your abilities, the sooner, perhaps, you will learn to control your Seeker programming to your satisfaction, too."

_Or lose my mind completely,_ but Will didn't say that. It was their Prime, and he would trust him, because he didn't have a choice. Him and Ratchet, and if he ended up going mad, at least he had done everything he could to warn them.

"I will notify you when your alt-mode is available."

A polite dismissal, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Will straightened. "Yes, sir."

And with that, he followed Ironhide out of the room.

---------------------------

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't have time to realise that Ironhide was leading him behind a hangar in the lesser-used parts of their base until a strong hand grabbed him and he found himself pinned, back against the hangar wall as Ironhide's optics narrowed on him. The hold wasn't enough to keep him if he wanted to get loose, but enough to make the point, and he made a sharp sound as he barely managed to keep suddenly-active heating fans under control.

"Do you have a death wish, Lennox?" he growled, and Will glared back but didn't move.

"I just believe in back-up plans, Ironhide. Things aren't magically going to fix themselves just because I ignore them. If I plan ahead, maybe it'll never get to a point where I have to use those plans."

"I'd say," Ironhide said in a low voice, "that your ideas go a little past 'back-up plans', Lennox. You all but told Prime to send you on a suicide mission."

A silent stand-off as both glared and then Will looked away. "I told you, 'Hide. I'm losing myself and it scares the slag out of me. I don't want to turn 'Con. I don't want to snap someday and target you or Sam or the teams because that Seeker programming turned out to be nastier than we thought. I know I've got blue optics and Autobot insignias, but you know what? Frenzy had blue optics, too."

His optics darkened for a moment as they still focused on everything but Ironhide, and the tension in his body drained under the mech's hands as Will yielded in their silent fight for dominance. "Optimus would take the shot but we both know he'd wait too long. Your cannons could probably take down Megatron. A Seeker wouldn't be a problem. It's just a matter of getting a target lock."

He paused, and finally looked up and found Ironhide watching him, silent and serious, and he continued quietly, desperately. "I don't want to turn 'Con. Don't let me, 'Hide. Please."

The grip lessened slightly, and when Ironhide spoke, there was no doubt or hesitation in his voice. "I won't. You have my word, Will. Whatever it takes."

_Even if it means pulling the trigger,_ he didn't say, but Will heard it, anyway, and nodded in silent thanks. He had needed to hear it, needed the knowledge that it would be one less worry to shoulder, and maybe he would have a little more focus to put into making sure it wouldn't come to that, now.

The grip had lessened but Ironhide still hadn't let go, and there was a peculiar glow in his eyes as he continued. "How much of you was up there?"

_Up there?_ Will thought, and then it clicked a moment later. _...Oh._

If he had been human, he would have taken a deep breath at that, but he kept Ironhide's gaze, almost defiant. He'd gone with honesty for the rest of it. He might as well continue that trend, because there would be no guarantee he would have the chance to do it over if he fragged up. "Some. It wasn't all the Seeker." He paused, and then he let go of his grip on the fans and let Ironhide pick up on the meaning himself. "I didn't have to fight that in Prime's office, or with Ratchet. I'm mostly me right now, and that means at least part of that reaction is mine as well. Am I comfortable with that? I'm not sure. A good part of me still sees me as a married human, and you as a big, alien mech, and that part gets stuck wondering how it would even work."

Ironhide nodded and seemed to consider that before he spoke. "If we strengthened our bond," he said carefully, "would it strengthen your connection to our side as well?"

Will blinked. That was... actually a good question. Would a Seeker be willing to leave a bond-mate, whatever the nature of that bond? Would any Cybertronian?

"I don't know," he finally said. "It might just help the Seeker programming take over that much faster, too. Ratchet – Ratchet might know."

One of the best medics since the war had broken out, and definitely the best surviving one, and if anyone knew, it had to be him.

_He's got experience with Seekers, too._

"We should talk with him," Ironhide said and let go of Will, and it wasn't just Seeker programming that objected a little to the sudden loss of contact.

"We should," Will agreed.

He wasn't going to hope, but he wasn't going to argue with Ironhide, either, and with a small, tired sound, he followed the mech back towards the infirmary.

---------------------------

Ratchet wasn't sure what he had expected when Ironhide had entered his infirmary, followed by their new Seeker looking distinctively tired, but the suggestion that followed had definitely not been it. Ratchet had dismissed his immediate response – _are you out of your slagging processors? –_ and had watched both of them carefully for a moment before he had dismissed Ironhide firmly.

"Last time I saw you, Lennox, you were willing to fight," he told the Seeker quietly once they were alone. "That was half an hour ago."

The soldier made what passed for a shrug in his new body. "I had a nice plan. Prime turned it down."

"You had a suicidal plan," Ratchet corrected, and more worrying than anything, perhaps, was the fact that the former human did not deny it.

"I had a nice plan," Lennox repeated and didn't back down. "Half an hour, Ratchet. That was all it took for it to start to take over again. It was dormant when you did the etchings, but as soon as I was out of the door, it picked back up. I can't do this. I'm going to lose, and there'll be nothing I can do to stop it. That way, at least I'd be able to do some good, and maybe 'Hide wouldn't have to pull the trigger on me when I turned 'Con."

"Not all Seeker are 'Cons," Ratchet said, and repeated what he had told the former human several times already in as many days. "Primus would not have-"

"I have fantasies about Starscream," Will interrupted, very quietly. "_Starscream. _Maybe Primus wouldn't have sent me back as an Autobot if I would turn 'Con, anyway, but maybe something went wrong. Maybe a human isn't strong enough to fight back. Maybe my Seeker programming is just fragged. Could be plenty of reasons, and I don't really care either way. I have fantasies about _Starscream. _I'm a Seeker, Ratchet. I'll be used in combat. What's going to happen the first time I end up fighting Starscream or Thundercracker or Skywarp? I've flown twice now and the Seeker took over both times. What's going to happen when I meet those Seekers in mid-air?"

Silence, because for once Ratchet really wasn't sure, and he suspected it was a question neither of them really wanted to know the answer to. Instead he took the chance to watch their new Seeker again and he wasn't encouraged by his conclusions.

_Worse than I thought, then._

"How distinct is that Seeker programming?" he finally asked as a vague idea began to take shape. There was no guarantee it would work, of course, but unless he did _something_, they would lose either Will or the Seeker or both. It was really only a matter of which part had the final say in the argument.

The whisper of plates sliding together as Will shuddered at the question. "Distinct. I can feel it take over. It's a personality of its own. Schizophrenia. I wasn't lying, Ratchet. I can do a lot of good like this. Give me the chance and I can cause some real damage to the 'Cons before they take me down. At the rate this is going, it'd be the kindest thing to do. It'd be fast, at least."

Ratchet nodded slowly and made his decision. "Let me speak to it."

Sudden tension in the body before him, every last bit of body language telling Ratchet the answer before Will could even speak. "No. No. It'll take over soon enough. I'm me now. Let me keep that."

While the medic understood Will's refusal, it also couldn't be helped. He had an idea, but he didn't want to warn the Seeker, and he watched the former human for a moment. Two ways to handle it. Ratchet settled for the kinder one.

"Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"

Blue optics watched him for a long moment, something very human in the features as the soldier seemed to consider it, and then he made a soft sound. "No."

Ratchet knew surrender when he heard it. "Then trust me in this, too."

Another long moment, and then William Lennox nodded slowly, and Ratchet could see the changes as the Seeker took over – expression changing slightly, body shifting, head held higher, and the familiar sound of heating fans broke the otherwise silent room.

_I like you,_ Ratchet mentally translated the sound. _You interest me. We should explore this further._

He reached out carefully, watched the Seeker's optics follow his hand and the mech lean into his touch as he rested his hand against the sensitive wires on his throat, and an instant later he struck, fingers digging into vulnerable seams and taking a hard grip on the Energon-line there.

The screech was almost deafening but Ratchet had expected it and already prepared his audio receivers for it, and the Seeker was on the floor a second later, wings trembling as it stayed very, very still to keep Ratchet from damaging it.

The medic watched for a moment to ensure it had gotten the point, and then he went down on one knee, still keeping that grip on wires and lines.

"Now that I have your attention, Seeker, listen to me very carefully," he said, his voice quiet and unrelenting. "You have a human personality in there as well. I don't know why Primus brought him back as a Seeker, but I do have experience with your breed. Most of you, if not all, are Decepticons by nature to some degree, blue optics and Autobot insignia or not. You all have that seed of arrogance and brutality in you, however deep down it might be. The human in you is fighting hard not to be crushed by you, as I'm sure you know. That means I have two patients in you, and right now I favour the human, _Seeker._ A soldier is worthless if it's a constant battle to make him take orders. I will fight for that human personality you carry. I will destroy every bit of programming you have, if that's what it takes. He is trying to adapt to you. If you ever wish to fly again, you will do the same." Fingers tightened fractionally and the body beneath them trembled in soundless pain. "Have I made myself clear, you winged piece of scrap metal?"

Bright, panicked optics looked at him – first time, probably, that _anyone_ had been anything but impressed or fascinated by the Seeker – and Ratchet knew the jet understood the point even before it nodded.

"Yes," it rasped, and Primus, there was nothing human in that voice. "Yes, medic. I obey."

Ratchet kept his grip for a moment longer and then he slowly let go. "Go into recharge. And Primus help you if we need to repeat this."

The Seeker watched him with wary optics as it climbed onto a berth, nursing its wounded throat, and Ratchet waited until it was completely gone in recharge.

Then he went to find Ironhide.

---------------------------

"I'm not going to ask you what the slag you thought you were thinking," Ratchet said flatly as he found the weapon specialist lingering outside of the infirmary, "because I strongly suspect you weren't." Ironhide frowned, but Ratchet continued before he could object. "It's not entirely your fault. I am going to make some educated guesses, and you are going to tell me if I got it correct."

Ironhide nodded at that, a bit wary, and Ratchet watched him carefully.

"You have a bond. Not a complete one yet, but the tentative beginnings of one that could evolve into the full connection of a mated bond, or a sibling bond, or one of close comrades in arms. You initialised it when he was human as a way of keeping an optic on him and likely were not even aware of it. Now the Seeker completed that bond."

A stiff nod confirmed as much.

"As I suspected. That half-formed bond is now a constant source of attention to your processors. Like a line that has been put slightly out of place or a dent in an uncomfortable but not painful spot. _This_," Ratchet continued firmly as Ironhide looked ready to object, "is not entirely your fault. The Seeker saw a chance to claim a mate. A good part of the frustration you feel about the tentative bond not being stronger is that Seeker influencing you." A pause. "This should not be a problem in the future, if the winged pest knows what's good for it."

Ironhide looked a bit uncertain at that. "Lennox?"

"The Seeker," Ratchet corrected. "And make no mistake, Ironhide. They're distinctive personalities. More so than I originally assumed based on his answers. It's not a matter of getting used to programming. It's a matter of learning to deal with an entirely separate personality taking up residence in your processors. The Seeker, to the best of my knowledge, is a new spark and eager to explore this world and thus all the stronger for it. In time, it will settle down and be driven by more than just core programming."

Silence. Ironhide, Ratchet knew, was familiar with physical damage but processor-related issues were far outside his area of experience.

"I had a talk with that Seeker. It should be more cooperative in the future, which in turn will allow the human part to regain control to a degree where it is the dominant one again." A tired sound. "What went wrong? I don't know. I would say that Primus would never have sent him back as a Seeker if Will could not control it, but there is the very real possibility that Primus judged him on Cybertronian merits and simply did not consider that the human soul, however strong, would not ordinarily be a match against a spark and actual programming. Or perhaps Primus knew it all along, and judged Will as a soldier rather than a human, and reasonably assumed that if Will was going to die no matter what, he would not object to being brought back to even our odds, even if it meant that the Seeker would take over before long. For now, I have evened the battle ground for him but in the long run, him and that Seeker will have to merge to be able to function as they should."

Still silence as Ironhide seemed to consider this, and when he finally spoke, his response was slow and thoughtful.

"What can we do?"

"Focus on the human," Ratchet said, because he had already considered that part of it, too. "Do not bond with them, do not even interface, if it's not specifically what _Will_ wants. If we simply wanted to bind the Seeker to our side, we could let it bond with Optimus Prime, and probably lose Will in the process as I doubt the human side would be very accepting of a bond made against its wishes. If he gives consent – _him,_ not the Seeker – then it would probably serve to help merge the two sides to some degree, but you had better be very, very certain the human side consented, too."

Ironhide frowned, and Ratchet snorted. "Don't think I didn't know what you two were up to during that test flight. You needed to hear that part of it. Focus on the human, Ironhide. Most of the rest of this place is too preoccupied with the fact that we have a Seeker now to consider the human part at all." A pause. "I ordered the Seeker into recharge. Be there for him when he wakes up, Ironhide. He needs it."

The dark mech nodded. "All right."

And perhaps, Ratchet realised, things were starting to go the right way again.

---------------------------

Wariness greeted William Lennox somewhere in whatever place mechs went when they recharged. Wariness, annoyance, curiosity, and spark-deep fear lingering on the edge of it all, and the pieces clicked into place as it was followed by fleeting images of Ratchet in all his ruthless, unyielding glory.

_Got your aft handed to you, huh? _he drawled silently.

Sulking, but no attempt to stop Will's comments, and that was a start, at least.

_So?_ he continued, letting the Seeker pick up on the meaning from the rest of his thoughts, and the question was followed by hesitation, and then faint bewilderment.

_You have no wings,_ the Seeker asked in bemusement. _I fly. Humans don't._

It was honest confusion, too, and Will got the sudden impression that the Seeker's spark or programming or whatever the hell made up the personality of a mech was very, very young.

_We're adaptable,_ Will drawled. _Besides, if you keep flying like that first time, you're going to get your aft fragged – by the 'Cons or our own side when you fly off to 'face with Starscream or someone._

Annoyance again. _Mate._

_Enemy, for Primus' sake! Starscream is an enemy, _Will snapped back. _And Ironhide will fry your aft if you as much as look like you want to go after those Seekers._

A pause followed by interest again, and Will got the distinct impression that it had been the mention of the Weapon Specialist that had drawn the bird-brain's attention.

_Mate, _it repeated, although this time it seemed aimed at the image of Ironhide, and if Will had been awake, he would have face-palmed. Out of all the Primus-damned builds on Cybertron... slag it. Being able to fly did not make up for dealing with a Seeker.

_Starscream, Ironhide, Prime, Ratchet – do you have anything but 'facing on your processors?_ Will snapped.

There was a long pause and the distinct feeling that the Seeker was considering that.

_Compromise?_ it offered hesitantly, followed by images of Ratchet, and whenever Will woke up, he owed the medic a big thank you for handling the situation.

_Compromise? _Will repeated, and there were another quick flicker of images of the mechs in question, lingering on-

_Ironhide, _the Seeker said, still hesitant – and Ratchet had definitely put the fear of the Pit into the thing. _Strong._

The thought wasn't as objectionable as Will had expected – better than the alternatives, definitely, and he hadn't been lying when he had told Ironhide that it hadn't all been the Seeker making out with him in mid-air – and adapting was supposed to go both ways. He was stuck with Seeker programming but that didn't mean they couldn't make it work. Somehow.

Frag it all, he didn't get paid enough for this kind of slag.

_Ironhide,_ Will agreed, and wouldn't the dark mech just be overjoyed to know he was being bargained away like a slab of beef. _In return, you won't try to take over. It doesn't matter if we're flying – we're supposed to work together, not play parasites. I can't fly? Fine, then teach me. You teach me to fly, and I'll teach you to put it to military use._

Another long pause, and then the feeling of acceptance from the Seeker, and Will waited for a moment but no objections followed.

_Truce?_ he finally asked.

The Seeker hesitated, and then gave the impression of a mental nod. _Truce._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Oh, wow O.o I'm a bit overwhelmed that so many people actually read and liked this thing. I know I responded to all the signed reviews, but I'll mention it again for good measure: thank you! It's a bit of a slight crack-bunny, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it. There'll be some actual human interaction coming up when Ratchet is satisfied their new Seeker is stable enough, and it's heading in the right direction for that now, at least.

---------------------------

Will came out of recharge feeling honestly rested and clear-headed for the first time in days. The Seeker was there but lingering in the background, thought-pattern merging with his own rather than trying to take over by force, and the stress of trying to stay in control was gone, too, and with it a lot of tension he hadn't even been aware of. It took him a moment to comprehend that fact, and a moment longer to discover that Ironhide was silently watching him, sitting on the neighbouring berth.

The Seeker purred in the back of his mind and Will hesitated as he tried for the first time to really _see_ the weapon specialist as the Seeker saw him.

Strong. Stubborn. Unflinchingly loyal. Will knew that much, already. Bearings of chrome steel and the ability and willingness to take shots that could have killed a smaller mech and still take on Megatron with relentless brutality. Not news, either.

_Strong,_ the Seeker whispered in his mind, and he let it come to the forefront of his awareness as he tried to see through its eyes.

Gleaming black bearing the scars of countless battles that even the best of Ratchet's work couldn't remove completely; battles fought and survived, won or lost; scars earned in the defence of what he believed in, an unbreakable oath he had honoured unflinchingly through it all.

Old – _ancient –_ and the very feel of it penetrated the air in a way that made him wonder how he had never noticed before. Older than human civilization, older than entire species, older than anyone on base save perhaps their medic, and he made even Optimus Prime look like little more than a sparkling in comparison.

He fought brutally because that was how war had been, with no room or time for flashiness or showing off; intimidating like Megatron himself if he really wanted to be and ruthlessly efficient in a way that probably wasn't entirely Autobot approved at times, and it suddenly made sense to Will.

The Seeker wanted a mate, someone to spark its offspring, and Ironhide had proved his strength, his loyalty, and his protectiveness and will to survive, and no slagging _wonder_ the thing was completely taken with him, and it wasn't just the Seeker watching the dark mech with admiration this time.

Gleaming black plating, the smooth curves of devastatingly lethal cannons, and the Seeker purred again and didn't object too much when Will kept the heating fans from starting up. Maybe it was satisfied that he was starting to see its point of view and didn't really need the fans anymore, and maybe it was another thing to thank Ratchet for, and whatever it was, he appreciated it.

_Mate._

And Will could probably live with that, he realised, as Ironhide arched what passed for an eyebrow on a mech and Will noticed for a moment that the mech's self-control was strong enough to keep anything from slipping through their bond. Ratchet had probably had a talk with him, too.

"Lennox?"

He had been staring, Will suddenly realised as well, and he shrugged slightly. "Just thinking," he said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Just... leaving out select bits of the truth, because like slag he was going to tell Ironhide what he and the Seeker had agreed on.

Ironhide just nodded at that. "How's your head today?" he finally asked.

Good question, actually, and he paused to consider it.

"Better," Will answered after a moment. "We... worked things out."

Ironhide nodded again and watched him like he wasn't quite sure if Will was telling the truth, and Will stayed still as he let the mech take whatever time he needed. He _had_ been acting strange with the Seeker in charge, after all. In Ironhide's place, he would have been worried, too.

"Ratchet said you're free to leave. You just needed to rest," Ironhide finally said, then paused, still not looking completely convinced. "If you feel up for it, your new alt-mode arrived."

It was all he needed to say, all they needed to hear, and bright optics lit up in brilliant blue fire as Will and the Seeker spoke as one.

"_Show me."_

---------------------------

He let the Seeker stay almost at the front of things as they made their way through the base. It was the first time he had really let himself see people's reactions to him as anything but a source of annoyance, and to see it from the Seeker's point of view was... interesting.

Startled glances from the humans they passed, a natural wariness from being around an unfamiliar mech that looked anything but harmless and more than a few frowns from the small crowd who knew enough to recognise a Seeker on sight, and the presence in Will's mind purred.

The mechs were more used to him, and the looks he got from those weren't wary in the slightest but ranged from curious to thoughtful to downright appreciative – and not just for the military asset he represented – and it was really no wonder Seekers were so arrogant. Not when everyone had that reaction to him.

The Seeker part of him preened, enjoyed every bit of attention they drew, and Will let it as they approached an undamaged runway with Ironhide leading the way, and an instant later the Seeker's preening abruptly stopped as their new alt-mode came into view.

Sleek, lethal, state-of-the-art, and even Will could appreciate the curves and lines of the jet that waited silently on the runway.

_Perfect,_ he whispered in his mind, and Ironhide gave him a glance as an echo of their emotions slipped through their tentative bond.

The Seeker purred its silent agreement, and then they reluctantly turned their attention to Optimus Prime as he approached, and Will barely had time to realise that the graphic images that usually appeared around their Prime were gone and the heating fans stayed silent without any help from him, and then his superior was in front of him and he snapped to attention.

"Sir." He straightened and was almost eye-to-eye with their Prime as the mech gave them a considering look.

"Ratchet mentioned that he had a... talk with you yesterday."

"Yes, sir," Will answered, and pushed aside the thought that wondered just how much Ratchet had shared with their Prime. Most of it, probably, if he had been smart, because Will was a Seeker and there was no guarantee Ratchet's threats would have been enough to keep that part of him reined in. "We... reached an agreement." _Take it one day at a time,_ he specifically didn't say, because hesitation wasn't an option. Ratchet's threats didn't matter in that particular regard. Seekers didn't respect weakness and the only way their truce would work without that constant threat of violence and deactivation was if Will proved to the thing that he wasn't going to back down.

Optimus Prime nodded.

"Very well. As Ratchet has cleared you for active duty again, you may scan your alt-mode." A slight gesture at the jet, and Optimus Prime was forgotten again, because this was perfect, flawless, lethal grace, and every Seeker instinct in him sang their approval in wires and lines and processors.

A clawed hand reached out to gently – gently – touch one wing of the F-22, making the pilot waiting nearby shift nervously, and then Will took a step back and let the Seeker take over and scan the jet.

Data flooded his processors an instant later – height, length, wingspan, weight, speed, materials – and the data came together to give the image of what he needed and then he was transforming, a slight change of colour from the Cybertronian grey as plating responded first, and then he felt his body take itself apart to rearrange it all again in the still-unnerving transformation process, and then he was staring at the runway, fourteen feet shorter and with the sensations of a brand new alt-mode taking over.

_Perfect,_ the Seeker agreed, echoing his first impression of the thing, and it didn't matter if it was an Earth-based jet. It was one of the best they could get on the planet, and if it was good enough for Starscream and his trine, Will couldn't find much to complain about.

A quick scan confirmed that he had gotten it right – a near-perfect copy of the F-22, with only the Autobot insignias and the NEST etchings marking him as anything but a normal jet.

Another second of admiring his new alt-mode, and then he realised something else – he had a cockpit. He'd need a pilot, or people would stare. The scan-ray reappeared, swept across the pilot's uniform, and the man yelped and took a step back, and Optimus frowned slightly.

_You,_ the Seeker part suggested, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Will only barely managed to stop it before a hologram version of his human self appeared in the cockpit.

_No!_

Confusion from the Seeker, not understanding his reaction at all, and Will sighed mentally. _It wouldn't be fair to Sarah. She has enough to deal with without having a hologram around to remind her of me all the time._

The Seeker seemed to consider that for a moment, then brought up a new suggestion in their mind – very pretty and very young, Sam's age at the most, and Will sighed again.

_Too young. We'd draw too much attention like that._

More confusion. _We draw attention now. We are a Seeker._ Implied: 'What's a little more?', and Will paused before he answered.

Compromise. The Seeker was young, so it went for a young hologram. The Seeker was vain, so it went for pretty as well, even if it was a slightly unnatural version of 'pretty' to Will's mind. Compromise, frag it, and if the Seeker was willing to try, he could slagging well do the same.

_How about mid-twenties? _he asked and didn't sigh this time.

The Seeker seemed to consider that for a moment, too, and then came the familiar feel of agreement as it brought up another suggestion – male, wearing a copy of the pilot's uniform, mid-twenties, brown hair, with echoes of what Will had looked like at that age... but almost painfully attractive, unnervingly, unnaturally so, all arrogance and ruthless confidence, and Will nodded slowly and bit back his objections. He still wasn't completely happy with the faint resemblance in the physical features, but on the other hand he could appreciate the Seeker's attempt to acknowledge his presence as well, and considering what he knew of the Seeker... it was as nice a compromise as they could probably reach. That Seeker part didn't feel willing to tamper with the inhuman attractiveness of the hologram and it was a battle Will wasn't going to start.

_All right._

The hologram flickered into existence and unnatural bright blue eyes focused on Optimus, and whatever else might be said about the Seeker, subtle and inconspicuous weren't on the list.

For long seconds, their Prime simply watched him and Will felt the Seeker part grow increasingly restless before the mech finally spoke.

"Can we expect a repeat of your last flight?"

The hologram straightened. "No, sir."

Almost sulking from the Seeker at that, but it didn't flat-out argue. Even it was smart enough to realise that pulling another stunt like that was likely to get their collective aft grounded until the Pit froze over, because Optimus Prime knew he was unstable now and Will had every faith that Ratchet would step in again if needed.

A slow nod from their Prime, and then he gestured at the runway. "Stay within your alt-mode's intended limitations. To hide is useless if you cannot do it convincingly."

The hologram sent the mech a wary look that seemed completely out of place in the arrogant features. "No other limitations, sir?"

Restricted to hovering the first time, restricted to Diego Garcia's airspace the second time, and he couldn't possibly mean-

"Ratchet kept me updated in regard to... recent developments," Optimus Prime said quietly. "I trust you."

Right, no pressure at _all_, then, and the Seeker part felt as confused as he did himself about it all, and he only barely registered the fact that the Seeker was looking to _him_ for an explanation rather than taking charge itself.

_Maybe he figured that since we worked our way around his orders, he might try this instead,_ Will said silently in response. _I don't know._ A pause. _Can you stay within specs?_

Sulking, annoyance, because why would a _Seeker_ be bound by mere Earth-laws, but the answer still came almost instantly, even if it was an almost-sigh of petulant disappointment. _Yes._

_Thank you, _Will said and pretended to ignore the flicker of surprise that followed and that he was pretty sure the Seeker hadn't intended him to pick up on. _We can push the limits later,_ he added, with far more promise in those words than any of their comrades would have approved of. The F-22 was fast, but it was still a far cry from the near-Mach 3 the Seeker could pull when it dropped pretences, and they would be painfully aware of that when they took off.

Speed, g-forces, a hundred things to keep in mind, but at least it was flying, and everything considered, it was a lot more than Will could ever have hoped for and the Seeker silently agreed in his mind.

A final nod at their Prime, and the runway vanished underneath them in a roar of engine noise as five tons of alien F-22 took off, and then there was nothing but sky.

---------------------------

Three hours on and most of the crowd had found other things to do – voluntarily or through the encouragement of their superiors. Three hours on, and their Seeker was still up there, still carefully staying exactly within the limitations an Earth-built jet of the same kind would have had, and at some point Sarah Lennox had made her way from the hangar she had been watching from and to the place on the runway where Ironhide still kept an eye on things.

He had always been cautious of his human allies and Will Lennox's mate was no exception to the rule and he was aware of her approach long before she reached him. A fleeting feeling of guilt about things he could do nothing to change, and then he kneeled and held out a hand, and to her credit she only hesitated for fractions of a second before she made herself comfortable in the make-shift, dark metal seat and he stood up again.

"He's good, isn't he?" she said softly, watching the Seeker as it came into view and vanished again, playing tag with clouds and testing air streams with its new alt-mode.

"He is," Ironhide agreed. Not that he had that much experience with Seekers that didn't involve shooting at them, but Will did seem to know what the slag he was doing. Will or that Seeker. Considering that he was still following orders, Ironhide had some hope that Will was still the one in charge.

Silence. Blue optics flickered to focus on the small human again, wondered briefly where their young offspring was, and then dismissed it as irrelevant. Mostly likely it was in the care of some other human on base, and it was perhaps for the better. The small human in his hand had enough to worry about as it was.

"Promise me something, Ironhide," she said quietly, still watching the Seeker as it finally began to approach for landing, and Ironhide gave her a questioning look. "Don't let them take advantage of him," she continued, quiet and unrelenting and hard as steel. "Your god took away everything that made him human. He enlisted when he was eighteen, against his parents' wishes. He's been army for longer than I've known him. It was his life, Ironhide, and your god took that from him. His life, his humanity, his home... every chance of ever having a normal life again. He's not even part of this planet anymore now. He may be yours now but nobody asked him what he wanted. That insignia on his wings doesn't give anyone the right to treat him as just another stupid military advantage, just because your god made sure he's got nowhere else to go."

"He is a comrade in arms," Ironhide frowned. "He is a warrior. To ask him to remain outside of battle-"

"I'm not," the small human female bit out. "I'm not asking you to keep him out of battle. I'm asking you to keep them from going too far just because they have their own stupid jet now. I may not be married to him anymore, Ironhide. The papers might claim I'm a widow, and I might still have to tell Annabelle that her father won't be coming home, but I'm still going to fight for him. You people already took him from me once. I will make you regret it if you do it again. He didn't ask for this, and everyone else is too busy giving him flirty eyes to give a damn how his mind is doing. Promise me, Ironhide. You were his friend before. _Promise._"

The roar of jet engines and their new Seeker touched down, a perfect imitation of a real F-22 as he still stayed within the rules he had been given, and something in Ironhide's spark twisted.

"I can't," he finally replied, with real regret in the words. "I will try, and I trust Optimus Prime's judgement, but I cannot give you that oath."

A soft sound from the human. "Good enough, then," she said softly. "Thank you."

Ironhide nodded slightly and up ahead the Seeker came to a halt and transformed to wait patiently as Ratchet approached. Post-flight check-up – you could never be too sure, and the Seeker part was still young. It never hurt to play it safe in cases like that.

"For what it is worth... you have my sympathies, Sarah Lennox," he said quietly. "I will always welcome a new ally, but I have not forgotten the circumstances. Whatever happens, he will not be alone. I can promise you that."

Sarah Lennox nodded and kept watching what used to be her husband as he complied with Ratchet's scans with far more tolerance than Ironhide expected a normal Seeker would have shown.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, but she felt less tense as she rested in his hand, and it eased a bit of the troubled feeling he wasn't even aware he'd had about her reaction.

Silence fell again, and together they simply watched and waited in surprisingly comfortable companionship for Ratchet to be done with their new Seeker and release him for the day.

---------------------------

Thousands of miles away, Soundwave contacted his Lord exactly thirty-two Earth-minutes before scheduled and made Megatron put aside his datapad. It could be a new arrival, perhaps. Things had been quiet since their last fight with the pathetic little fleshling-lovers and he didn't expect anything to happen anytime soon, either, but perhaps... Ironhide. He had taken out the fleshling in charge of their human division, after all, and the two-legged cannon _had_ been disgustingly protective of that squishie. He didn't think Prime would dare to go after them with thoughts of vengeance so close to his processors, but their weapon specialist had always been more Decepticon than Autoscum, anyway, and simply too cowardly to admit it.

"Report," he ordered as the Communications Officer waited silently in orbit to be acknowledged.

"Autobot Seeker: located. Designation: unknown." As calm and monotone as ever, and maybe that was why it took Megatron just a moment to realise just what he had said.

"Re-scan, Soundwave. Fleshling communications have scrambled your processors. There are no Autobot Seekers," he snapped, and somewhere behind him, Skywarp tensed but continued his work without pausing.

"Confirmed. Processors: fully functioning. Autobot Seeker: located." Still calm. Still monotone. Still impossible. The Autoscum had no Seekers left, and Soundwave made note of every new Cybertronian that arrived from space, whatever their loyalties. A quick scan revealed his own trine to be where they were supposed to, and even if they hadn't been... Soundwave would have known their designations. Those couldn't be hidden.

A moment of hesitation, and then he leaned back in his chair again, troubled. "Acknowledged, Soundwave. Keep an eye on it."

"Soundwave: acknowledges," the Communications Officer responded and the connection fell silent again as Megatron kept staring at the new data they'd received.

_How the frag did you pull off that one, Prime?_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Another 4k, just in time for the weekend! I'm not sure how big the next update will be since the next couple of weekends will be a bit insane, but I'll try to get something posted by Friday. Until then, enjoy and thank you for reading!

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According to Will's brand new processors, he had exactly half a second to realise he was slagged before he found himself on the ground, staring up into the cloudy afternoon sky of Diego Garcia as Ironhide came into view.

"And that's why you're going to learn close combat," the dark mech drawled. "If you hadn't known human close combat, I might've let you off the hook, but knowing the wrong way to fight is even worse than not knowing anything at all."

Which was true, Will had realised that the moment he had remembered – too late – that he wasn't human anymore and human close combat techniques wouldn't do a slag of good when you were taller than just about anyone and had wings to boot. Which was about a second before he found himself on the ground and the Seeker stunned into silence in the back of his mind. Oh, sure, Ratchet had manhandled it a little – or Seeker-handled, possibly, Will wasn't sure – but this was _Ironhide_, and Ironhide, according to Seeker-logic, was obviously not supposed to attack. It was _mate_, after all.

Will had ignored that and decided to let the Seeker keep sulking and refrain from explaining the facts of life to it until it had calmed down a little.

Ironhide was still watching him, then held out a hand, and Will grasped it and got back on his feet. Nothing serious showed on his damage reports – scratches, for the most parts, and a small dent near one hip – and then he groaned slightly as he realised something else. "Different balance, different weight, different hands, different built, different size... _slag._ I'm going to have to start over from scratch."

_We are a Seeker,_ the presence in his mind objected as the words made their way through its shock._ This is not right._

Images of wings against concrete, scratches, dents, broken joints and shattered sensor nodes as the Seeker made its point, and Will really didn't care. Words wouldn't help, he knew that much, and so he shifted through memories of Mission City and latched on to the image of Megatron's Second in Command tearing through cars with what might have been called a lack of finesse, but still in a definite show of skills and strength.

_Starscream learned,_ Will retorted. _You can't count on always being able to fly away._

Silence from the Seeker as it retreated to sulk again, and Will turned his attention back to Ironhide.

"Seekers aren't programmed for this sort of thing. You've got wings for a reason, but I'm not sending you out there without a fragging good grasp of this," the weapons specialist said and left no room for arguments. "You will learn, Lennox. The Seeker'll object, because those things will complain about anything that doesn't involve flying, and I really don't care. This is for its own good, even if it's too stupid to get it. You will report for training two hours a day, every day, until you get it right."

Will straightened slightly and ignored the firm sulking from the presence in his mind. "Yes, sir."

And while it sucked to have to start over, at least there was something familiar about ground-based fighting, and he could live with that.

He hoped.

---------------------------

Two hours later had him seriously reconsidering his initial estimate. Everything hurt, wings more than anything, and the Seeker part of him had gone from sulking to angry to frightened and then finally silent as it simply watched and let Will handle it all, a peculiar sort of morbid fascination starting to show near the end of their lesson. It wasn't real curiosity, but at least it was better than a running commentary whenever he found himself on the ground and at Ironhide's mercy again, and he had almost groaned when he had realised that not even two hours of getting their afts kicked was enough to keep the Seeker from responding to those particular situations.

Once, with Will on his back and Ironhide pulled down with him in a last-ditch attempt to get even, the heating fans had even turned on, and the Seeker had at least had the good grace to feel vaguely embarrassed at that.

_Strong,_ it murmured in response to Will's bewildered thought directed at it. _Dominant. Control._

Will had ignored that, too, along with Ironhide's smirk, and gone right back to getting his aft kicked like he was supposed to, Seeker instincts be damned. He might not be programmed for it but stubbornness could do a lot, anyway, and two hours later had him slowly and painfully grasping the beginnings of Seeker-style close combat, and a whole new appreciation for his instructor.

It had been different as a human. Every single one of the Cybertronians were big when you were human, even Arcee and her sisters, and relative size had never really been that much of a worry to Will. When dealing with 'Cons, it didn't matter if you were dealing with twenty or thirty feet of mech. You'd be equally dead if they stepped on you, and at most the smaller ones might be only slightly easier to take out. It was different as a Seeker. Ironhide was significantly smaller than him now – everyone was, save for Optimus – and he had at least a ton on the dark mech. It didn't change the fact that Ironhide consistently had him on the ground in seconds, and it was only as a mech that Will really started to realise just how good his instructor was. He had always known Ironhide was damn fast and damn competent, but he'd never had the perspective to let him realise just how dangerous the mech was even without his cannons to help. Seekers weren't programmed for ground-based fighting, but it didn't change the fact that he was still taller and heavier than Ironhide and had reflexes to match the breakneck speeds he was capable of now.

Ironhide wasn't just competent, Will realised as the mech called an end to the lesson and helped Will back on his feet. Ironhide was built and programmed for war. It wasn't luck that had let Ironhide become one of the oldest surviving Autobots around that Will knew of. It was skill combined with ruthless brutality when necessary, and not for the first time that day he wondered how many Seekers the mech had been up against in battle.

"You're a Seeker but you're not completely useless on the ground," Ironhide finally said and let go of Will's arm. "You've got Seeker instincts working against you, but that human part knows what it's doing. Listen to it. It's got it right."

Will nodded and subconsciously flexed his wings, testing for damage he was surprised to find wasn't there at all. The wings were obviously a lot less fragile than the Seeker believed... but then, that did make sense. A Seeker was nothing without its wings. Protecting them would be first priority, whether that protection came from programmed concern from the Seeker or a wing-construction that was a lot more durable than it gave the impression of.

Some stunned sensor nodes and scratched paint, but the rest of the damage was all on his body rather than the wings, and he ignored the silent sulking of the Seeker in the back of his mind. Annoyed, probably, that it hadn't been right in its doomsday scenario about learning that stuff.

At least the graphic images were mostly gone and the ones that remained were focused solely on Ironhide, and it wasn't until he'd had most of a day to think clearly that he really noticed how much of his mental strength had been taken up fighting the various aspects of the Seeker.

It was trying to adapt to him now. It was honest-to-Primus genuinely trying to _compromise_ and the realisation left Will baffled. It was a compromise made under threat of extreme measures, but it was still a compromise and it was clearly trying even when Will himself was struggling with giving up any bit of his humanity in return.

Clawed fingers flexed as he watched them, still not completely used to the sight, and then he looked up again and finally asked the questions that had been lingering at the edge of his processors since Ratchet had given him the all-clear after his earlier flight.

"How is Sarah?" Quiet, unsure – and didn't that sound completely wrong from a _Seeker_ – but the presence in his mind was as quiet as Will felt, uncertain worry and a distinct feeling of wrongness from being separated from someone it liked, and underneath it all, a clumsy attempt at understanding the difference between Will's pain and the feelings the Seeker itself went through, and Primus, but the thing was _trying._ Clumsily, uneasily, but trying.

Ironhide hesitated slightly, almost too shortly to register at all, and then led the way as they slowly made their way towards their base again. "She is strong."

Which Will knew, and slag it, it wasn't what he asked. On some level he could understand what they were doing. The Seeker was young and inexperienced and very likely to forget that humans were fragile, and Will, however much he might try, was still off-balance and unsure about everything and going from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other in the blink of an eye, all depending on how much control the Seeker and the human had respectively. On some level, he could even appreciate it. He _was_ unstable, mentally and otherwise, and Sarah deserved to talk to someone who wasn't a basket-case in the making, and even if that wasn't an issue, they could probably both benefit from time to actually come to some degree of acceptance about what had happened before they talked.

Most of him, though, was torn between impatience and restlessness and worry and bone-deep _guilt_, and all he wanted was to see her without Ironhide or Ratchet standing guard in case anything happened, talk to her without an audience, and give her the freedom to react in whatever way she had to, without trying to keep it buried because someone was watching and it was private stuff that even Ironhide wasn't going to be privy to. They had to talk, face to face, because that was the only right way to do it.

She had left the runway again by the time Ratchet had finished Will's check-up, and Will understood. They needed to talk, and being so close and still unable to share a single sentence without having someone standing right next to them as a precaution was just a painful reminder of the restrictions still put on Will more than it was actual comfort in the presence of someone loved.

And his emotions were probably showing through the bond with Ironhide, but it wasn't something he was willing to rein in and he doubted he would really be able to if needed, and if the mech noticed anything, he didn't let it show.

"How long?" Will finally asked, and Ironhide didn't need to ask what he meant.

"Ratchet's decision." He paused, and there was a hint of regret in his voice and body-language. "It's improving, I'm told."

Improving. Which really told Will nothing more than it was heading in the right direction, and gave him no actual useful knowledge past that, and the Seeker in his mind stayed very, very silent, and Will couldn't even bring himself to blame it for their instability. It was young, it was confused, it had been put in an entirely new world, and it had no experience with life whatsoever. It ran on core programming. Blaming it would be like blaming an overly-enthusiastic puppy for being clumsy. It wasn't its fault. Whatever other faults Seekers had as a build, it really meant no harm. Whatever other faults it had, it wasn't its fault that they had all had to learn from scratch and do their best through guesswork because there was no recordings of anything like it ever happening before, and even Ratchet had to learn the hard way as things progressed.

He needed to talk to Sarah, and she wasn't the only one, either. The rest of the humans had been kept away, too. He hadn't been closer to an actual human being than thirty feet since he had woken up as the completely wrong species, and even that had been Sarah and had also been enough to make Ironhide visibly tense. The rest... Epps was probably ready to tear his head off for making them worry and not being able to exchange more than a few words with them before being dragged off again for check-ups or training or for security reasons, Sam was probably pacing a hole through the floor based on Bumblebee's behaviour, and he tried really, really hard not to think about his tiny daughter who had grown up so fast and whom he wasn't sure he would ever be comfortable being close to again in a body as large and dangerous and intimidating as his new one. Adults, at least, had some degree of common sense. Three-year-olds didn't, and even if she did, there was still the question of whether it would be fair to her at all. He needed to talk about that with Sarah, too. Daddy was on a mission, that was the excuse so far, but sooner or later that excuse would run out and they'd have to make a decision, and his spark twisted painfully at the knowledge that it might just be the easiest thing for everyone to write William Lennox off as dead and keep the truth tightly under wrap. Sarah could keep a secret. So could NEST and Sam.

His emotions must have been painfully clear through the bond, because a moment later he felt a tentative presence at his end of it, followed by emotions that were far more soothing that he had imagined their weapons specialist capable of. He tensed for a moment, not sure about it at all, and then let the emotions flood his processors and chase away the worst of the darkness and felt the Seeker murmur soothingly in response.

Ironhide kept walking, not skipping as much as a beat, and Will slowly released the worst of the tensions in his frame. Part of him felt guilty for trying to make reality just go away, but the larger part of him knew that it was probably for the better. It was limited how much you could deal with at a time before it all just collapsed around you.

"Thank you," he finally said quietly, and Ironhide put a hand on his arm, and Will was almost too preoccupied to notice the lack of little electric charges at the touch. Almost. They had been missing all day, and he really, really owed Ratchet a gift-wrapped stack of high-grade for stepping in the way he had.

Ironhide didn't speak and Will didn't answer, and together they made their way towards the hangars again in comfortable silence as the Seeker purred quietly in the back of his mind.

---------------------------

"They seem to have worked out some sort of a truce for the moment," Ratchet reported to his Prime later that evening, after finishing the last check-up of their Seeker for the day. Seekers weren't as fragile as they looked, but Ironhide had a very hands-on approach to teaching and there was no need to risk anything. As expected, there had been only minor injuries and Ratchet had fixed what needed to be and then sent him away again. He knew there was something Will wanted to ask, knew there was something gnawing on his processors, but their new Cybertronian had stayed silent and Ratchet hadn't asked. There was any number of questions it could be, but Will would ask when he was ready and Ratchet wasn't going to push him.

"They did stay within the limitations of their alt-mode," Optimus Prime agreed but his voice still had a worry in it that had become familiar to Ratchet over the last few days whenever the topic turned to their new Seeker. "Exactly within specifications, in fact."

"But they obeyed orders, in both letter and spirit," Ratchet pointed out. "They reached a truce. I had a talk with it. I've dealt with Seekers before, Optimus. I do have some experience with them and I made sure it understood the situation. They obeyed their orders for the full three hours and didn't once try to find any loopholes. That's not the Seeker at work, that's Lennox. He was special operations before NEST claimed him. Being competitive is in their nature."

Optimus Prime nodded and seemed to consider that. "Do we have any idea of the nature of that truce?" he asked, just a bit dryly. "I'm not blind, Ratchet. I noticed he didn't have to spend part of his focus today on not letting the Seeker show its mating displays."

Ratchet's optics shuttered in an imitation of a human blink of surprise. "You're familiar with them?"

It wasn't common knowledge outside of the Seekers' own personal circles, hadn't even been particularly common knowledge even in some medical circles, and certainly not in Autobot circles after the War had really started in full and with the majority of the Seekers on the Decepticons' side.

There was gentle amusement in Optimus Prime's voice as he answered, probably reading his surprise as easily as a data transfer. "We weren't always at war, Ratchet. There was once when a Seeker was not necessarily a likely enemy."

_Ah._

Ratchet blinked again in bemusement and then politely changed the topic. The time before the War was a painful topic to most mechs, and while he didn't know if the same was the case with his Prime's experiences with Seekers, there was no need to risk anything for the sake of simple curiosity. "Based on his behaviour around Ironhide, I strongly suspect that part of their truce involves him. He controls himself well, but there were signs that those mating displays were still present around Ironhide." He paused, then shrugged. "As long as it keeps the human part in control, I'm willing to give them the benefit of doubt. The Seeker part is strong and it's better for all involved that human and Seeker reach an agreement on their own rather than have an outside force push it on them. For the moment, it seems stable. If it continues like that, I would be willing to let him move around unsupervised soon. Him and his human bonded are both growing restless and worried. It would be good if he could be trusted around humans soon, for him as well as them."

"I concur," Optimus agreed, as Ratchet had expected he would. "Anything else?"

"Beyond the fact that there is nothing at all like this in any sort of medical records and we're essentially learning as we go along?" Ratchet said dryly. "It's unfamiliar ground to all of us, but we're trying. There will be compromises, about quite a few things. Seekers weren't intended for ground-based combat, but the human part seems strong enough to force it to learn, anyway, and with some luck an un-Seeker-like activity such as that will strengthen the human side. On the other hand, he will most likely never be able to fly with the same reckless abandon as true Seekers. Even if he gave over control to the Seeker side completely, there would most likely always be that small piece of human self-preservation arguing with the more death-defying stunts."

He hesitated, then continued. "He is good, Optimus, but he will never truly be on par with Megatron's Seekers. Starscream has no equal, Skywarp has his teleporting abilities, and Thundercracker would not be in their trine if he could not keep up with them to some degree. Lennox will argue with that point, because he's a Seeker now and they hate admitting weakness, so I'm telling you now, Prime. However skilled he might look from the ground, he's still going to come out second best if he ever goes one on one against one of the real Seekers."

Ratchet fell silent and their Prime nodded slowly as he considered the warning. It wasn't one Ratchet was happy to have to give – Seekers were useful, but Seekers also had a remarkable arrogance and lack of common sense and the complete inability to face their own weaknesses sometimes – but it was a warning that was uncomfortably necessary. The human NEST teams all had the ability to disregard their own safety when needed, because no one sane really wanted to sign up for a job like that, but it also meant that there was no real leash on the Seeker. Even if Lennox knew the limitations of his new body when pitted against genuine Seekers, there was a very real risk that he would disregard those limitations if he felt the situation called for it.

"Your warning has been noted," Optimus Prime finally said, quiet and serious, and Ratchet nodded in acknowledgement, because there was nothing else he could do. He had passed on the warning, and while he strongly hoped said warning would never be necessary, endless years of war had taught him better. Desperate times sometimes called for desperate measures and they would need every mech in the field. All they really could do was stress the danger of the Seekers to Lennox and hope that even if he chose to disregard the warning, one of them would be around to order him to stand down if he did anything too unnecessarily dangerous.

"I'll keep an eye on him tomorrow," Ratchet said and changed the topic again. "If he still looks stable, I will let him interact with the humans on base again. Other than that... nothing. His scans look good, his Energon levels are kept within recommended ranges, and even Ironhide's lesson didn't rattle anything in his processors. Physically speaking, he is in perfect condition."

"Good news, at least," Optimus said wryly. "To be completely honest, I had started to question the wisdom and kindness of Primus in this, however much I appreciate another comrade to fight on our side in this war." He sighed before he continued, another habit picked up from exposure to humans, and then shook his head slightly. "Keep an eye on both of them. From what you have told me, the Seeker meant no harm. Hopefully, they will work this out on their own. If not..."

He trailed off and Ratchet picked up before his leader could do so himself.

"If not," the medic interrupted, his voice deliberately harder than needed, "I will favour the human. I know they both deserve the chance to exist but if it comes to that, I will favour the human. He has proven himself. The Seeker hasn't." A pause, enough to see the slight shift in his leader's stance, guilt and relief obvious if you knew what to look for, and Ratchet continued in a kinder voice. "I am your Chief Medical Officer, Optimus, and in this case, the choice is mine. He is my patient. You make enough hard decisions on our behalves already. Let me make this one for you."

Optimus Prime nodded, silent gratitude in the motion, and Ratchet snorted slightly. "Now that that's settled... go recharge before you collapse on your feet. You've worried too much the past days. It shows. That's my order as your CMO, too."

And with a sharp nod in greeting, Ratchet turned and left before his Prime could object. There were still things to be done, still questions to be answered, but it was heading in the right direction, at least, and that was good enough for now.


	6. Interlude 1

**A/N:** UsagiLovesDuochan asked about Ironhide's view of everything that's happened, and he started talking – thus, a small interlude before the fic picks up again. I hope to get the next part posted by Friday, but can't promise anything. If not Friday, it'll be sometime early next week. Thank you to my amazing reviewers – getting your views of it all is awesome and tends to spark ideas about things I hadn't considered at all, and that's definitely appreciated :) And thank you to my awesome readers for giving this crack-bunny of a fic a chance!

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Contrary to common belief, not all of Ironhide's processing power was spent on his weapons systems. You had to be smart to survive on the battlefield, because the femme Luck was fickle and only followed you for so long before someone else caught her optics and you were left surrounded by enemies and with no backup in sight.

It was one of the reasons that had made him accept the then-human Major as a comrade in arms in the first place, despite his small size and the fragile nature of his species. He was lucky – he had to be to survive not only the attack in Qatar and being hunted by Scorponok, but the mess that had been Mission City and his attack on Blackout as well – but luck had not brought him and his men from the destroyed base and back to the human's native country with the information they carried. Luck had helped, but most of it had been skills and relentless determination, and Ironhide could respect that. 'Will' was a fitting name for the small new ally Ironhide had found himself with after the battle against Megatron, and he had been pleased when said ally had been put in charge of the human part of NEST. It was someone tried and tested in battle, and Ironhide could respect that, too.

That humans were fragile compared to Cybertronians had been painfully clear from the start. They were determined to fight for their planet and did it quite well, too, but it came at a high cost for them. It didn't stop them, but it was something that all of the Autobots kept in mind. Ironhide had always known that it was true for all humans, that his small ally was no different and that fighting at their side would be very likely to end up getting him killed someday, but over time he had stopped worrying about it quite so much. The Major was skilled, his team was skilled, they had learned each others tactics and quirks, and the femme Luck seemed to keep a consistent optic on him. There had always been the risk, of course, but it hadn't been at the forefront of his processors the same way as it had in the first months. It had been an acknowledgement of a fact, like Arcee and her sisters' relative vulnerability, and nothing more. It was a credit to said human's skills that Ironhide simply acknowledged the fact of his relative fragility and still trusted him to stay safe.

It hadn't been until the last few seconds before the explosion and the too-late warning from inside the building that Ironhide's processors had caught up with reality and the theoretical fact of human fragility became sudden, spark-chilling knowledge, too late to do anything but watch as metal and concrete exploded and the structure came down with a rumble that was felt more than heard through the chaos of the battlefield.

He had finished the battle with brutal efficiency after that. There would be nothing to salvage but bodies – not many of them, either, because Primus damn it all, that was why the human had been in there in first place, and the building had been all but cleared of both civilians and all NEST personnel but one by the time it came down – but it hadn't mattered to Ironhide. Cold fury in his spark, he had ignored Ratchet and Chromia and even his Prime. Nothing to salvage but bodies, and in the case that really mattered to Ironhide, not even that. Humans were a foolish species, too, and had yet to learn that some alien technology should be left alone. The explosion had originated from the laboratory, and Lennox's sharp warning had come from the same location. Logic told Ironhide that there would be nothing left to find, and he had obliterated one of the few remaining fragments of the building in helpless anger. He didn't know why Lennox had gone back inside, didn't know what had been important enough to run a risk like that without backup, and it didn't matter, either. The femme Luck was fickle, and Ironhide would gladly have torn out her spark if he could for abandoning the human when he needed her most.

It had been Ratchet who had picked up the presence of a spark and Optimus Prime and Ironhide who had helped the medic force aside the heavy pieces of broken concrete to reach the Cybertronian buried underneath. They had thought it was Starscream or one of his trine at first, until a disturbingly familiar Autobot insignia had come into view, and while Ironhide's processors recalled with perfect clarity what had followed, it was still something they had problems dealing with.

The Seeker, Energon levels at critical and in desperate need of a recharge, had asked for Ironhide in perfect, flawless, familiar English, and Ironhide had done the only reasonable thing he could: He had frozen and stared, like the Earth-deer caught in the headlights of a vehicle, and had stayed that way as Ratchet worked, only moving when the medic ordered him to get his aft in gear and help lift the Seeker.

Things had only turned increasingly strange after that. The hows and whys of the situation nobody had any idea of. Lennox himself couldn't offer an explanation, either, and Ironhide had been a lot more relieved than he had been willing to show when Ratchet had confirmed that it was indeed their supposedly-dead human in the Seeker body and not some freak sort of Earth-influence that had caused the thing to speak human-style English and ask for Ironhide.

Some things made sense, they had found in the days that followed. Most things didn't. A brand new spark wouldn't have known how to fly so well, but it came instinctively to Lennox. On the other hand an adult Seeker, from what Ratchet had told him in a private moment, should have had more control of its core programming than Lennox currently had. It wasn't a sparkling but it clearly wasn't completely mature, either, and Ratchet had finally admitted defeat. He could help the human part stay in control to some degree, but where the thing had come from in the first place and why Primus had chosen to do it like that, they'd have to ask him themselves, and Ironhide hoped it would be a long time before any of them got the chance to do that.

With Lennox finally in recharge after their training session and Ratchet's check-up, Ironhide had retreated to analyse the information he had gathered over the course of the day, from the flight to their training and their talk, and he was slowly, cautiously, starting to believe that Lennox was telling the truth when he said the Seeker and him had reached an agreement. It had clearly been the Seeker in control the day before, but now... Lennox's control had slipped once or twice during their close combat lesson, but nothing even approaching what Ironhide had observed the first few days and the constant visible struggle to keep the Seeker from reacting to something as simple as the presence of someone stronger than itself. Something had reined in the Seeker, and while Ironhide wasn't sure exactly what their medic had done, he approved.

Even the bond felt different now. Less familiar Cybertronian and more... something else. The time after the first flight it had felt like a normal Cybertronian bond – less controlled because of the Seeker, with stronger emotions, but a normal bond. Now... less so. A constant, low-key presence as Lennox couldn't quite shut it off completely, but with a strange feeling to it that Ironhide assumed was the human influence showing. It was more controlled than the Seeker, certainly. He had wondered after Ratchet's talk just how much of Lennox's reactions to it all had been nothing more than the Seeker looking for a mate, but even with the human in charge the bond remained and Ironhide's cautious attempts at reassurance hadn't been blocked like he had initially suspected they would be.

Everything considered, Ironhide had finally decided, there was a real chance that Lennox had told the truth about that as well – that it hadn't just been the Seeker showing interest during that first flight, and Ironhide approved. Of course he had reached back when the Seeker had initiated the bond – it was a Seeker and Ironhide had always held a fascination with them – but that initial fascination had turned from the Seeker and to the human instead as their fight had begun in earnest. The Seeker was fascinating on a purely visual level, strong and dangerous and exotic to a ground-based mech, but the human was a comrade in arms and for the first time Ironhide found himself appreciating Lennox's traits as a mech rather than as a fragile, organic life-form.

The stubbornness and determination that fit so well with his name had been commendable in a human working with NEST, but it was only with Lennox as a Seeker that Ironhide had remembered how much of an attractive trait he considered it in a mech. Seekers were arrogant and vain, which was why Ironhide had preferred to admire them from a distance, but with Lennox in control, the Seeker had yielded and obeyed orders, and Ironhide had watched in fascination as a build of mech that was never intended for ground-based combat had nonetheless silently put up with two hours of relentless training in that very topic, and Ironhide didn't for a moment believe a proper Seeker would have done that.

Seekers were interesting by nature but Lennox was quickly becoming interesting to Ironhide for much more than simply his new build, and he reached out carefully to reaffirm the presence of the still-tentative bond before he retreated again, careful not to disturb the new Cybertronian's recharge.

_You slagging well better be careful,_ Ratchet sent through their own bond, forged through aeons in battle together, and it was only then that Ironhide realised he had been transmitting to some degree. _Of course you are. I can practically feel your processors creaking,_ the medic continued a bit annoyed and confirmed what Ironhide had already guessed. _Shield, Ironhide. I know it's a unique situation, but the only excuse for forgetting to shield a bond at your age is senility. Is it time for a thorough medical exam, perhaps?_

_I can still slag your aft, medic, _Ironhide rumbled, more annoyed with his own lack of attention than anything, and the amusement that followed the remark was well-deserved, too.

_And risk the Seeker thinking you're interested in me instead? Keep in mind what I told you. There are two personalities in there. Make very, very sure the human side is interested, too. _He sounded patiently amused, like explaining something to a youngling, and Ironhide made a grumbling sound through their bond, drawing a soft snort from Ratchet. _Recharge, Ironhide. He's not the only one who needs it. Recharge or shield. Yes, he is attractive. I am aware of this. Stop keeping me awake because you need to overload._

And before Ironhide could come up with a suitably snappy retort, the bond went silent and Ironhide huffed.

_Medics,_ he grumbled for good measure, and then sighed and surrendered. Annoying or not, said medic was right. Recharge it was.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I've got a busy weekend coming up, so the next update won't be until sometime next week. Until then, here's the next part :) Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

---------------------------

Will came out of recharge feeling grouchy. 'Grouchy' lasted for all of thirty seconds before his processors came back online completely, and then it rapidly went downhill from there. If he had been human, he would have called it a simple case of not being a morning person – which, granted, was unusual for him, but he was a Seeker now, and that could have explained it – but with a feeling of dread, he was starting to get the sinking realisation that his foul mood had another source.

His entire body seemed to hum, pent-up, excess energy straining against every single part of him, made lines and wires ache and sensors throb painfully, and he hissed instinctively as he stepped into sunlight, overly sensitive optics taking too long to adapt and processors making their displeasure known.

He felt like he was burning, consumed by energy that had nowhere to go, and he knew with painful certainly that he had been an idiot when he'd wondered if his bad mood the first few days had been because of Seeker-instincts demanding he interfaced with someone. It hadn't, and he knew that now. There was nothing he could mistake this for, and he shoved aside the graphic images before they could get a foothold, familiar images of Ironhide the day before, of Prime's strength and quiet dominance, of Ratchet's skills and ruthless ultimatum given to a graceful, lethal war-machine so much larger than the medic himself, and the buildings around them were closing in, shadows creeping closer as Will grasped for anything that could help him stay in control.

Confusion from the Seeker, impatience and demands and worry all in one, the need to fly, to fight, to _'face_, anything to make the painful tension in his wings and his body and processors go _away_ and Will shuddered instinctively.

Words and impressions rushing through their processors, mate, bonded, control, overload, make it_ stop,_ and he clenched still-alien hands tightly.

_You're kidding,_ he told the Seeker, nearly desperate. _Ratchet was kidding. Don't tell me your kind actually gets pissy if they don't get to 'face with someone. There are other ways to do this. I told you I agreed, we'll go after Ironhide, but I'm not going to jump him just because you have the self-control of a human teenager. You're a slagging _Seeker_. Tell me you've got more self-control than this._

Images; graphic, unwelcome, and sending systems further into overdrive, and then the clear feeling of the Seeker honest-to-Primus _trying,_ reaching for alternatives and desperately trying to find something that worked, and the image that followed was more sensation than visual, spinning through endless sky with wind tearing at wings and tail and engines, faster than any human jet, and the Energon in his veins sang at the thought and the feeling that followed from the Seeker was sheer desperation.

_Fly._

One word, all it had said to him on the topic so far, and even through relentless instincts demanding to be obeyed, it was trying to help.

Cooperation. Adaptation. Compromise. _Slag it._

He keyed the communications line to their Prime before he could think twice and spoke before the mech could do anything more than acknowledge his presence.

"Permission to fly, sir?"

His voice sounded strained even to himself, a flood of emotions just barely kept in check as he set in every last bit of willpower he had to keep himself on the ground and level-headed until he got a response – and what would happen if that response was 'no' was something he wasn't going to consider unless it actually happened – and time stretched on forever, seconds turning endless as he could almost hear Optimus Prime frown on the other end and the Seeker screamed mentally and fought against restraints that could barely hold.

"Please, sir," Will continued after seconds that felt unbearably long, and he knew he was uncomfortably close to pleading, knew it wasn't something he would ever have done before, but desperation took over, claustrophobia closing in even out in the open as hangars seemed to tower above him, and he shuddered subconsciously. Excess energy wrecking havoc with his processors and only two proven ways to get rid of it. "It's fly or find someone to jump, and I can't. Won't. Sir."

_Please._

He really had no dignity left at the moment and he'd slagging well beg if it got him off the ground and the chance to clear his mind, and their Prime had clearly come to the same conclusion as he responded after what felt like an eternity.

"Stay within one hundred nautical miles of Diego Garcia, and come down before you drop from lack of Energon," Optimus Prime finally said, and if he had any reservations about it, he didn't let it show. "Go."

And in a roar of powerful engines, Will was off, transformed mid-air and lost among the rain-clouds that covered the island as the temperature around him dropped and then there was nothing but a grey sea of rolling clouds below and endless, impossibly blue sky stretching out above him as he dipped, skimmed the top of the clouds and drew strands of them with his wings, and as Mach one became Mach two and kept climbing, Will knew he was home.

---------------------------

Thousands of miles away, Megatron had only half an optic on his datapad when Soundwave contacted him ahead of schedule again, gaining the instant full attention of his Lord before he even spoke.

"Report." He suspected what Soundwave was contacting him about, because the Autoscrap had been unusually quiet lately, but he wanted confirmation before he would allow himself to get his hopes up.

"Autobot Seeker: located," Soundwave reported, calm and monotonous as ever as he confirmed Megatron's suspicion. "Current position: outside reach of Autobot scrambling field."

Images followed and showed the creature for the first time, recording taken from orbit and showing the jet from above – F-22, Megatron noted, like his own trine –and with markings that left little doubts about its loyalty. The Autobot insignia and the human NEST mark, and he felt disgusted at the sight of that on something so obviously sparked for the sort of freedom the ground-pounding Autoscum and their Prime refused to give the breed.

An Autobot Seeker, however baffling and disturbing the idea was, and this time it was outside the shielding that kept the enemy base hidden from even Soundwave's optics... which meant that the thing could be contacted, too. It was too far away to be reached without giving the Autoscum plenty of warning in advance, but communication wasn't easily blocked. Not completely.

Seekers listened to Seekers. They were hardwired to belong in trines and could be social to a degree uncommon to most Decepticons, even with Seekers outside of their trine if they felt a kinship with them. He could contact the Seeker and use the response to power that was hardwired in the build, too, to make the creature listen, or he could take advantage of the fact that the few Seekers on Earth were already his. Seekers listened to Seekers and Seekers listened to power, and however treacherous his backstabbing Second in Command was, he was also indisputably the most skilled Seeker of his generation – Megatron would not have put up with him otherwise – and a strong trine leader at that.

Starscream would shoot him in the back if given the slightest chance, but the Air Commander's disgust for the Autoscum far outweighed any feelings he had for his leader, and Megatron knew that, too. Seekers respected power, and Thundercracker and Skywarp were loyal to their Lord. Starscream was the exception to the rule, too vain and too arrogant to admit his place. If the Autobot Seeker was willing to take orders from _Optimus Prime,_ of all people...

Another moment of thought, and then he opened a familiar frequency. The Autobot Seeker was too close to its base to be able to physically approach it without giving it time to retreat, but they wouldn't need to for now. For the moment, communications alone would be sufficient.

"Starscream. The Autobot Seeker has been located again. Find out who and what that thing is and how in the Pit Prime managed to claim it. Don't fail me in this."

He didn't wait for a response but turned his attention back to his Communications Officer again, processors already at work considering the possible outcomes. "Soundwave, give him what information he needs and record their communication. Keep me updated."

"Soundwave: acknowledges."

And with only some slightly troubled thoughts running through his processors, Megatron leaned back in his chair and waited restlessly for things to be put into motion.

---------------------------

Will hit the one-hundred mile barrier with the roar of engines and an impossible turn as he twisted and went straight up, g-forces that would have crushed a human dizzying even to a Seeker, and then there was only sky above him as he climbed, tilted backwards and followed the dome of his one-hundred mile limit with perfect accuracy, going back and up and somewhere in his wake, he had left a bit of the pent-up energy, but it wasn't enough, never enough, and he pushed his engines further and shuddered as he found nothing more to give.

_Faster_, something whispered, himself or the Seeker and he wasn't sure, and it suddenly made sense that they needed to interface, because at this rate it would take all day to rid himself of the excess energy and an overload could have done it so much faster, and was the thought really that repulsive to him?

He shuddered again, spun to clear his mind and shake off a bit of that energy, and maybe it was the distraction that cause him to miss the little flashing icon the first few seconds it appeared.

A communication request on an unknown channel, and the world froze around him as he took a closer look, bad temper and strained processors forgotten as he ran on autopilot and could do nothing but stare at the icon that continued to blink insistently.

Unknown channel with no Autobot encryption. It could be a virus, could be any given one of a number of nasties, but Ratchet had made sure his 'protection' was up to date – and that term had made Will groan more than once – and after another moment of thought, he accepted the request. There was nothing on his radars and he was close enough to Diego Garcia to get back long before anyone could get close to him, and whoever might be behind the request, refusing it and not knowing at all would be even worse. Humanity had a well-developed sense of imagination, and Will was still human in some ways that counted.

The channel opened and the voice that followed should have been familiar but didn't sound it, and Will felt himself freeze again at the words, strong and demanding and with no room for arguments.

"Decepticon Air Commander Starscream to unidentified Seeker, negative six-point-two, seven-two-point-four. Designation and faction?"

_Starscream,_ his mind repeated, frantic thoughts going through his processors, realising an instant later that the voice that was so grating on human ears held so much more to Seeker audio receivers, and he trembled as the Seeker part of his spark responded to the hail, fascination and respect and sheer, mind-numbing _lust_ and he ruthlessly pushed it aside, helped by the sudden confusion that followed as the words really registered.

_Designation_, his mind repeated and the Seeker part stayed silent, and Will realised with a sudden chill that none of them had given it any thought at all. He was human and had refused an Autobot designation, and no one had asked the Seeker, and if creators gave their offspring a name when they were brought into the world and the Seeker came from Primus... it might not have been given one at all.

He halfway expected the Seeker part to take over in response to the Decepticon – to _Starscream, _whom the Seeker had fantasized about ever since they woke up in their new body – but instead there was uncertainty and hesitation and almost submissive respect, and Will realised a moment later that if he wanted to keep Starscream from noticing that the Autobot Seeker was, in fact, completely lost about the whole thing, he'd have to handle it himself. He wasn't going to show weakness to Starscream, couldn't afford to give any sign that anything was wrong and possibly make his family a target if the 'Cons found out what had really happened, and whatever else might happen with him being an alien robot now, he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

He crossed his fingers mentally and then he responded and put every ounce of authority and unyielding determination he had in his voice.

"Decepticon Air Commander, this is Autobot Seeker, designation Will, under the command of Optimus Prime... as you'd know if Soundwave had done his job right. Get his optics checked, Starscream. My markings are clear," he replied and let sarcasm show in his voice.

He felt the Seeker's uncertainty at having no other designation to give but Will's, but it was better than nothing, and they both knew that, too. The Seeker had translated it into Cybertronian in his mind even as he spoke – some complex glyph or another that his processors translated to _stubborn/strong/dominant/unyielding_ – and it was better than an obvious Earth-name, at least, and there was the fraction of a pause and Starscream's silence sounded almost amused.

"Autobot Will," the Decepticon finally responded, and made a sound that Will mentally translated as a snort. "An unfitting name for a pathetic piece of Autoscrap but appropriate for a Seeker, I suppose. Did you get your loyalties confused, Seeker? What are you doing with the Prime?"

The Seeker stirred, lingering images of the sheer power of being in the presence of Starscream and Megatron to underscore the Air Commander's words, clawed hands grabbing roughly, twisting wings, making him obey through sheer power and strength, and it took every last bit of self-control Will had to keep the nausea at bay.

"I've got processors that can focus on other things than flying and interfacing," Will bit back, disgusted. "And I don't get a hard-on from getting squishy, organic bits between my toes."

Laugher filtered through the channel, harsh and mocking, and as the human side started to take over more, Starscream voice sounded increasingly like it was supposed to – unpleasant. "So you obey them instead? You're unworthy of your wings, Seeker. I can feel your energy from across this planet. You have no trine, no sense of your worth, not even an interface partner to release your tension and worship your wings as they should be. The Prime deserves no Seeker on his side. Megatron came back with wings himself, Autobot Will. He understands the lure of the skies. The Prime never will. He will cage you and bind you to the ground-pounders until your wings grow lifeless and vanish into nothing."

_One hundred nautical miles,_ Will's mind whispered, unbidden, and the Seeker shuddered at the restriction. It was for their own safety, Will knew that, the Seeker knew that, but it didn't change the sudden feeling of a leash around his neck when all he wanted was to fly, fly until the world ended, until sky turned to space and there was nothing between him and the stars but endless darkness, and Starscream continued at the sound of his silence.

"You know I speak the truth, Seeker," he stated, and the voice had become fuller, more alluring again, strength and control and dominance, and the images rose again as well, unwanted and disturbingly appealing and Will could do nothing but listen as aeons of experience demanded his obedience. "I am the Decepticon Second in Command, Air Commander of the Lord High Protector's army, leader of Lord Megatron's first-among-trines, and I offer you freedom if you are enough of a Seeker to dare claim it. When you tire of the Prime and the ground-pounders, the offer stands." Energy crackled and Will spun desperately, threw himself into a series of manoeuvres that would have killed any human, and Starscream _knew,_ because the words that followed were dark velvet and touched against every sensitive bit of Will's processors, and then the Air Commander laughed.

"Hail the true children of Primus!"

An instant later the connection was cut, and energy danced across wings, across engines and tail and left icy cold behind, and Will continued straight up, put every last bit of energy he could grasp into the engines and desperately tried to keep his last, weak grasp on their combined self-control.

He wasn't going to let it control him. He was a Seeker, but he was also William Lennox, and they were Pit-be-damned _stronger_ than this.

_You can outrun anything, _Will bit out at the Seeker who had stayed quiet in the back of his mind and felt it stir in response to the challenge. _Prove it._

Engines suddenly screamed, alien metal trembled under the relentless assault of sheer force, and warnings appeared in Will's processors but he ignored them and trusted the Seeker, and even as the warnings continued, his body withstood and the Seeker was nothing more than brilliant, vibrant _joy-_

- And twenty-eight miles above Diego Garcia, five tons of alien jet hit Mach three.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hello there, my wonderful readers! There won't be any updates next week on account of NaNoWriMo, but the next part should be ready in two weeks. Until then, I hope you enjoy and I apologise in advance for the wait until the next part is done :)

---------------------------

The summon by Ratchet to get his aft back on the ground had not been a polite request, and Will was not surprised to find the medic waiting on the out-of-use runway when he landed, anger fairly radiating from his tense stance. He had known about the warnings Will had ignored, of course. Will had remembered that his systems were still set to offer regular updates on his condition to the medic about five minutes too late, when he'd already hit a speed he wasn't made for and the first damning databursts had already been transmitted.

His entire frame hurt and his engines felt like the armour covering them was too tight to really fit as they responded to the intense heat of the flight, and his landing was a lot less graceful than it could have been, tarmac cracking as he landed on his feet at entirely too high a speed and with a roar of engines that could probably be heard over most of the island.

His systems still hummed from pent-up energy, if less than before he took off, and he was still fighting a vague feeling of distinctively human nausea in his processors at the memory of Starscream and his effect on Will's new Seeker body, and he offered an explanation in an almost-steady voice before anyone could ask.

"Starscream contacted me. They know about me and want me on their side. I told them to stuff it." Told them, with as much conviction as he could have managed at the time, and he added a databurst of the recorded conversation to Optimus Prime and Ratchet as little more than an afterthought, to let them have the full image. Another moment and some actual thought involved from his still-clouded processors, and then he added the same databurst to Ironhide and Sideswipe because slag it all, he had nothing to hide and they might find something in it that Will had missed, and if there was a small voice in the back of him mind that added _and they'll know there's a real risk you might be a danger someday and will be ready to act if it happens,_ it was only common sense. Ironhide would take the shot if needed, he had already promised as much, and Sideswipe hated 'Cons more than any of them did. It would probably hurt like slag at his hand, but it'd be fast and much better than the thought of one day turning on his friends.

Only a slight narrowing of optics in a frown gave any indication of Optimus Prime's feeling on the new development, and then he nodded, a flicker of optics directed at the medic at his side before they returned to Will. "There will be a full debriefing after Ratchet has given you the all-clear. Dismissed."

Ratchet was in front of him an instant later, twenty feet of ground-bound mech easily staring down thirty feet of Seeker, and even through the hum of energy, Will still felt the Seeker in his mind flinch at the glare directed at them. "Infirmary, Lennox. Now."

Will followed quietly as Ratchet turned and led the way, and in the back of his mind, the Seeker stayed equally silent and didn't argue. They were probably toast, Will realised, but it had been worth it. He could think again – not clear-headed by any stretch of imagination, but he could think again, and that was a lot more than could be said for the situation when he had first woken up that morning.

_Pain,_ whispered the Seeker, clearly still remembering its experience with the medic. _Anger. Hurt,_ it added, worried, and Will steeled himself and felt the Seeker draw a bit of strength from that as well_._

_Pain,_ it repeated, if a bit less worried, and Will raised his head slightly.

_Worth it,_ he said, and together they followed Ratchet to the infirmary.

---------------------------

The walk to the infirmary happened in silence, and it didn't escape his notice that the tense anger remained in Ratchet's stance as he directed them to a bed once they stepped inside, uneasiness fairly radiating from the Seeker in his mind. Will had never feared Ratchet – respected him, certainly, but never feared – but right now he could almost understand the feelings from the Seeker, the sudden feeling of the snake and the mongoose and the realisation that being the stronger wouldn't help him now if the medic decided to strike.

"Who was in charge?" Ratchet asked flatly and made the Seeker tense in Will's mind, watching the medic with wary optics.

"I was." Unhelpful but true, and Will continued at the glare he got in return. "The human," he clarified. "I thought you were exaggerating about Seekers needing to interface. I owe you an apology. You were right. I woke up with it this morning feeling like I'd have jumped anything that looked even remotely interested and when I didn't want to go along with that, the Seeker suggested flying instead. We gave it a go, obviously. It didn't work very well, but it was better than nothing."

Ratchet snorted, clearly unimpressed. "So you decided to see if you could hit Mach three." Blue optics narrowed and this time even Will ducked his head slightly at the hard glare. "Starscream can keep up Mach three consistently because he was built that way. More importantly, Starscream can hit Mach three without damaging himself in the process. You're not made for the same speed as him, and if I ever catch you trying to do that sort of thing again without a valid reason, I will ground your aft until the end of the universe. Have I made myself clear, soldier?"

The voice was every drill instructor William Lennox had ever had and he responded instinctively, sitting up straight before he was even aware of it. "Yes, sir!"

Another long, hard glare, and then Ratchet brought out some unfamiliar tool or another and walked around the bed, and a moment later Will felt the medic start to work on his engines. He flinched instinctively at a particularly harsh sound of metal against metal but there was no pain to go with it, only an unfamiliar, uncomfortable numbness as his processors made him aware that the sensors in his engines were offline.

It was silent for long minutes as Ratchet worked and Will wasn't going to risk angering the medic further by making potentially stupid comments, and then finally the silence was broken by the sigh of intakes venting. "I don't know if that Seeker you're carrying around has reminded you, but a core instinct of the breed is to mate and spark. That excess energy is a way to ensure that the Seeker in question will seek out an interfacing partner or a more long-term mate, thus also ensuring an increased possibility of sparking an offspring."

The Seeker listened silently in the back of his mind and he got the vague impression of curiosity from it, the Seeker used to obeying its instincts but having never actually wondered about the reasons for said instincts before.

_Mate and spark,_ Will's mind repeated, turning Ratchet's words over as he considered them and realised something else with a sick feeling to his stomach_._

"The Allspark's gone," he quietly pointed out, and yes, it had taken them a while to realise the full consequences of the battle of Mission City, and years on he still hadn't stopped feeling bad about it. No Allspark, no sparklings, and there was nothing they could do now but slowly watch the end of the Cybertronian species.

"Yes," Ratchet responded. "I know." Another pause, and the sound of something metallic scraping against Will's engines. "Seekers are... unique. A breed of their own when you get down to it, I suppose. Seekers can spark. Primus knows why, and why no one else can, but that's how it is. They can spark and their instincts reflect it. We all have core programming that tells us that sparklings are to be protected, but in Seekers, that programming overrules most everything else in their processors, including their own spark and well-being. Factions don't matter. I suspect that even Starscream's trine would protect an Autobot sparkling if it was ever needed – certainly a Seeker one, at least." He snorted softly. "Take it from its creator by force and raise it as a Decepticon, but protect it nonetheless, in what passes for it in their world."

Something deep and instinctive stirred in Will's processors and the words didn't sit right with him. "Any Autobot would protect a kid," he said. "never mind the species."

"Not all Deceptions would," Ratchet responded, very quiet and very serious. "Not even a sparkling born of their own faction. The Seekers would, but most Decepticons are not Seekers, and neither is Megatron. Having wings and the ability to fly does not make one a Seeker, nor does it imply the mech in question possess Seeker-instincts. Keep that firmly in mind when that Seeker in you becomes too tempted by Starscream's offers. Remind it what else it would be agreeing to, and perhaps it will be less tempted by it all."

An unpleasant, unneeded reminder of just what sort of beings they were up against and Will suppressed an instinctive shudder as those same Seeker instincts responded to the thought as well, and he forced himself to change the topic before they could linger on the mental images. "I don't think it really knows what it wants," he admitted, and the silent feeling of sulking he got from the Seeker was all the evidence he needed that he was right. "I don't think it really looks any further than just a mate. It's really attracted to Starscream because of what he is but forgets about the rest of the 'Cons. It's even a bit attracted to Megatron, and we _know_ what sort of mech he is." Clawed hands flexed and Will looked down at the still-alien part of him. "It'd probably be easier to just give in and go jump Ironhide, but my brain still sees me as married and interfacing as something really bizarre. It won't change in a week, and if I jumped 'Hide, anyway, you'd probably have my aft for doing it, and the Seeker would be completely in charge for the whole thing, and... that's not really fair, either, is it? To it or to 'Hide. We're supposed to be working together and adapting, and letting the Seeker deal with anything involving 'facing really wouldn't be fair to anyone."

The sensors on his back came online again to the feeling of soreness in his wings and engines, but less than before, and Will almost didn't twitch when Ratchet began to look over his wings, a gentle kind of firmness in the motions that made Will suspect that Ratchet had more than a little experience with Seekers – and in more than just theory, too.

"My apologies," Ratchet murmured, clearly distracted. "Your sensors need to be online for this. Let me know if any of them cause you pain. Seeker sensors are made to pick up on even minute changes in their surroundings, and while they are reasonably durable, you did push the limits of them."

Will hissed a moment later as the words turned prophetic with a touch of one particular sensor near the base of his left wing, and there was a sudden, sharp pain as Ratchet used some small tool or another on the sensor, and then it was over again, as sudden as it had arrived.

"You caused your engines to heat up further than they were intended to. Some of that heat affected the sensors as well. It's usually not enough to matter, but the heat this time caused the metal to cool wrong around them. It only hurts when something comes into contact with it. Until then, there would be a dull tension at the most." The tool moved again, targeting a different sensor, and his right wing tensed at the pain, the left one kept tightly in Ratchet's grip. "Keep this in mind next time you decide to ignore your warning displays."

Another sharp stab of pain somewhere in his left wing and no, it wasn't a lesson Will was likely to forget any time soon, and he could almost appreciate the way Ratchet did it, blending firm reminders of Will's own stupidity with useful knowledge of his new anatomy in a way that would ensure Will might actually remember both parts of it.

"It was that or jump someone," Will bit out as yet another sensor was identified and repaired, and then he sighed. His processors still felt clouded but not enough that he couldn't control it, and Ratchet's work only helped keep it in check. "Even if I wanted to do it the other way, I wouldn't know how. It's like flying – the Seeker's trying to teach me, but it's all instincts, and it's the same with interfacing. I get lots of graphic fantasies from it, but they're all bits and pieces of it, nothing solid. I wouldn't even know what to do, Ratchet. I'd be leaving the Seeker in charge for the whole time, and I don't think even _it_ really knows what it's doing."

Silence for long moments, broken only by the soft sound of metal brushing against metal as Ratchet kept working, and then the mech sighed as well. "You can't pull a stunt like this every time, Will. You're going to push it too far eventually, and it won't work. I can feel that the energy is still in your body. You may have gotten rid of the worst of it, but the rest will still remain. That's _why_ Seekers get unpleasant to be around if they do not interface regularly. To constantly deal with that sort of stress on your body and processors was not something any of us were constructed for." Another long pause and the clear impression that he was looking for the right words and then the medic continued. "Cybertronians as a species have quite a few less hang-ups and taboos in regards to interfacing than the human species does. I already gave you a lesson in basic Seeker programming. If you wish instructions in regards to interfacing from someone who has had actual experience with Seekers outside of the medical arts, I would not be averse to giving you that."

Will froze under his hands, and Ratchet continued before he could object, hands never ceasing their careful, measured work. "I am aware the Seeker sees me as a potential mate, and I am also aware that you and it have apparently reached some sort of truce regarding Ironhide. I am offering this as your friend and medic, neither of whom wish to see you injured because you decided to follow Seeker instincts and interfaced with someone inexperienced with Seekers – which would be most Autobots currently here. As I'm sure you have discovered, Seekers _enjoy_ rough interfacing, but the fact that you are sturdier than you look does not mean you are invulnerable, and Ironhide enjoys a rough 'facing as much as any Seeker does."

_Oh, Primus._

Will, to his credit, did not facepalm at that, although he did for a brief moment wish for any distraction – a Decepticon attack would do nicely, thank you – and then he groaned. "I'm not having this conversation. Please tell me I'm not having this conversation."

A hard twist of something on his wings that drew a sharp gasp from Will at the flare of pain, and Ratchet snorted. "You're having this conversation. You're a Seeker now, Will. This is what you are. The best thing for both you and it would be to find a way to work together. You will never feel properly at home in a Seeker body without those same instincts to help you. You need at least that part of it still present, and to have that, you need to come to terms with the Seeker. I am not telling you to lie back right now and think of Cybertron. I am telling you that the offer of instructions is there when you have had time to consider the situation and if you decide that interfacing might not be quite as abnormal as your human side tells you. I am aware that adapting will take time. I am aware that your bonded mate remains an anchor to your human side. I am simply telling you that the offer stands."

A genuine offer made out of honest concern, Will realised. Not because he was pretty or exotic or unique, but because Ratchet was honestly concerned and wanted to help in whatever way he could, and after a long moment Will nodded – slowly, hesitantly, but still a nod.

"I'll... keep it in mind."

It wasn't flat-out refusal, at least, and for the moment that was the best he could do. Ratchet obviously knew the same, because he merely nodded slightly and silence fell again as he continued his work on the young Seeker-build that was already lost in thoughts.

---------------------------

Two hours later found that same medic in the presence of Optimus Prime, and one look at his leader told Ratchet he hadn't arrived a moment too soon. Of course he had taken a look at the recording of the conversation Will'd had with Starscream – Will's quick debriefing had only revealed so much, and the recording itself had shown so many more details that were all so very Starscream – and in some cases, so very much not, too. Mostly it had been pure Starscream, though, and that would always be bad news to an Autobot.

"I ordered him to recharge," Ratchet reported. "He'll be able to attend a proper debriefing tonight. For now, he needs rest. Excess energy or not, reaching speeds you were not built for demands a lot of your body."

"A wise precaution," Optimus Prime agreed quietly. "He did not have any serious injuries from his flight?"

"Minor damage. Unpleasant for him but easily repaired." Ratchet paused, took a good, hard look at his Prime, and changed the subject before the mech in question could object. "My opinion as your friend? The humans have a saying, Optimus. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't."

"Megatron was always gifted with words. There was very little he couldn't convince a mech of if he had sufficient motivation to do so. He... understood what desires drove the beings around him. He understood how to use it to his advantage." Optimus fell silent for a long moment, then continued. "Starscream learned well."

"There's a reason why most of the Seekers joined the Decepticon cause," Ratchet pointed out, his voice hard and unyielding and willing his Prime to understand. "Those are the facts and you know that as well as I do. Seekers as a breed were always arrogant, vain, and with a streak of brutality that was rarely very well hidden. They were Decepticons by nature. Megatron simply allowed them to give free rein to that side. Seekers were never Autobots by nature. Whatever you do, you are likely to lose. Rein him in and they will both start to fight against the sort of restriction that is unnatural to any of their breed. Let him loose, and you know that he will be targeted. Converted to their cause if possible and destroyed if not."

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't," Optimus Prime agreed softly. "How strong is he?"

The real question hung unspoken between them but Ratchet could easily pick it out, anyway. "Is he strong enough? I don't know. Even he doesn't know. For now, they seem to be getting along. For now, they both seem willing to adapt. Will it be enough? I don't know." Another long moment of silence. "I can't tell you much as your CMO that you don't already know, but my advice as your friend? Let him fly. Restricting him will not end well, no matter how you choose to handle it. If you give him his freedom, there is some chance it may work out. The human side may be strong enough to keep them out of the worst situations. There is a risk, yes, but there always is. To him, to you, to all of us. That risk was no less when he was a human, Optimus. He died as a human, in a war we brought to their doorstep. Give him a fighting chance. It may end badly, and I am no less aware of that than you are, but at least he was given that chance. Restricting him will leave him without even that."

Optimus Prime stayed silent for a long while, his calm stance betrayed by the slight tension in his frame, and Ratchet let him think and simply waited for whatever conclusion his leader would reach.

"Even in the darkest hours of the War, there was always choice," Optimus finally said, and Ratchet released the tension in his own body that he hadn't even been aware of. "When Cybertron was laid to waste, when no mercy was granted... there was always choice. It has been so long since a new spark has appeared that it is perhaps easy to forget. Whatever your origins, you always had a choice. Perhaps not much of one, at times, but it was always there. Even I had that choice – to defy or submit when Megatron rose. I thank you for reminding me, old friend."

Ratchet nodded and whatever fears had nestled themselves at his spark, images of four Seekers in the skies or the lifeless, burned remains of someone he called friend, he ruthlessly pushed them aside. "Let him fly?" he asked and needed the confirmation, a small bit of certainty in a situation none of them truly understood, and Optimus Prime finally nodded.

"Let him fly."


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Aaand we're back in business, with less of an update delay than I'd feared. Yay, NaNo! ;)

* * *

Waking up was not a pleasant experience but not nearly as a bad as Will had feared. The debriefing had been all business by Ratchet's orders – Will was in no condition to sit still and focus for any prolonged periods of time – but it had still been a bit more than Will's overcharged brain had been willing to handle and by the time he had finally gone back into recharge, he had been tired and drained and grouchy and the Seeker had fared little better.

Recharging, as it turned out, had only marginally improved things. His body was still humming with excess energy, the Seeker part of his brain still clouded and confused when he didn't forcibly make it focus, but at least he wasn't tired anymore, and he felt marginally less grouchy about life as well. The Seeker part was unusually silent, still asleep in the back of his mind, and that left the human side to be in charge for the morning. He felt unfocused and annoyed and somewhat out of sync with his body, but the world was not an entirely miserable place this morning and he could work with that, at least.

That, of course, had lasted all the way until he'd had his Energon and found himself outside with Ironhide on the training ground, staring at the grey sky above and feeling the urge to take off again and knowing damn well Ironhide would have his aft if he tried. The mech hadn't said much during the debriefing at all, letting Optimus and Will do most of the talking, but he hadn't exactly given off the impression of being particularly pleased with Will's stunt.

"You skipped training yesterday," he had drawled when Will arrived, and it had only gone downhill from there. Two hours of training was what he'd skipped the day before and when the daily two hour mark approached and Ironhide gave no sign of letting up, Will realised with a sinking feeling in his stomach that the mech fully intended to make up for the missing training session.

The Seeker would have objected, would probably have fought, but its processors were too clouded, too unfocused to really do much, and so Will was stuck dealing with it instead, and it was a testament to Ironhide's relentless training that there wasn't as much as a flicker of arousal from the Seeker. It had been overcharged, willing to do just about anything to get rid of the energy they could only barely keep in check through their collective stubbornness... even now there was still the feeling underneath it all of energy straining to be released, and still there wasn't as much as a flicker of mental images from the Seeker. Not of Starscream, not of Optimus, not even of Ironhide.

It was three hours into the training session that Ratchet showed up and ordered a halt to it with all the unyielding stubbornness of a CMO who had spent most of his career at war, and Ironhide had arched what passed for an eyebrow at Will, kneeling on the ground and still trying to find the energy to get up again after the last throw had sent him flat on his back, and then he had nodded once, sharply, and held out a hand for Will.

Will eyed him for a moment, then Ratchet, and finally decided to just go with it and trust him, and said trust was rewarded as he was pulled to his feet again without some sort of dirty trick bringing him right down again in the name of training.

"See me in the infirmary when you're done here, Lennox," Ratchet said firmly, making Will shift slightly and bite back a soft hiss as the motion made several sensor nodes near one hip flare up in pain and no, he wasn't going to argue with that order. Like it or not, he was quickly coming to accept that no, Seekers weren't meant for close combat and no, being a human mind in a Seeker body didn't make a slagging bit of difference in that, either.

"Yes, sir," he responded and straightened slightly, and Ironhide finally let go of his arm, probably because he was finally somewhat convinced Will wasn't going to fall right back down and earn them both a chewing-out from the medic.

Ratchet watched both of them for a moment, silently promising pain for both of them if anything happened, and then he turned and left and Will's intakes vented softly. Every part of his body was sore, he had dents in place he didn't even know he had, and his paint needed a serious touch-up after three hours of close combat training with a pitch-black mech... and underneath it all he realised to his surprise that the excess energy wasn't quite as bad as it had been before, a soft hum beneath it all but his head felt clearer and the Seeker's still half-asleep processors felt a good bit less clouded, too.

"Feeling better?" Ironhide finally asked, and Will gave him a startled look, prompting a snort from his instructor. "You need to learn to shield that bond, Lennox. I got to go along for your whole flight yesterday and let me tell you, I really didn't need those images of 'facing with Starscream and Megatron."

_Oh. _Will's optics shuttered for a moment, too tired to really feel embarrassed, and he did what he could to shield the bond at the reminder and probably failed miserably in the process.

"You think _I_ wanted them?" he settled for instead, one clawed hand lingering on a still-sore bruise on one wing where the sensor nodes hadn't blocked it yet, and too tired to really muster much in terms of emotions at all. "Slag it, Ironhide. They scare the frag out of me and no one seems to be able to do a goddamn thing to help me. Ratchet is going to have my aft if I go flying like that again and it didn't even help that much at all, just took off the edge of it. It took three hours of hard training now to even get out the worst of the energy to a degree where I can actually think again without forcing myself to."

Maybe he had expected Ironhide to get angry, maybe he'd expected annoyance at Will's inability to control himself, but whatever it had been, what Ironhide finally did was not it.

"I know," the black mech said, quietly and seriously. "And I will keep my promise if it's ever needed. Watch your back, Lennox. Starscream is a treacherous spawn of a glitch. Even Megatron can't control him. Don't turn your back on him. He'd turn on his own trine if it could get him what he wanted."

Will wasn't entirely sure of that but he didn't argue but simply nodded in agreement instead, too tired to try and defend the Seeker and not sure why he would even want to in the first place, either. It was the enemy, a brutal killer who would gladly tear apart every ally, friend, and family Will had, and why in the name of all that was holy he'd gotten the thought to even try and argue against Ironhide's words, however quick the thought had been to vanish again, he had no idea.

_Seeker,_ the voice in the back of his processors murmured, finally roused from its clouded rest. _Kin. Protection._

_It's **Starscream**_, Will snapped back but it lacked its usual heat, the tiredness draining to both of them. _He's the enemy. _

_Kin,_ the Seeker whispered, more to make a point than anything, because a moment later it was gone away, resting away in the back of his mind and Will got the clear impression that for the moment, it didn't mind at all letting the human part be in control while they tried to handle what remained of the pent-up energy.

Ironhide was watching him, clearly waiting for an answer, and Will finally got a grip on himself again and nodded tiredly. "I'll be careful."

A long moment of silence as Ironhide kept watching him, looking for something that Will wasn't even sure what was and then the mech nodded. "Good. We'll test out your weapons tomorrow. After that, we'll try to see about letting you train with someone other than me. Now get your aft to Ratchet before he makes both of us miserable. Dismissed."

The Seeker stirred uneasily in the back of his mind at the thought of Ratchet, a strange mix of apprehension and respect, and then that strange feeling of mental recharge claimed it again and Will was left to his own thoughts and reactions again. For the first time in a long while, he found himself honestly looking forward to a trip to the infirmary – if nothing else, it was a lot better than another hour of training at Ironhide's hands.

* * *

"You look better than I'd feared," Ratchet greeted him as he stepped inside, still feeling absurdly clumsy on the ground, with broad shoulders and even larger wings that stretched far beyond anything that was reasonable and kept threatening to catch on doorways or get stuck in palm trees.

"Training helped," Will admitted and sat down before Ratchet could even tell him to, making a few sensor nodes complain at the motion. "It got rid of some of the energy. It's still there but I can sort of control it today. It's better than yesterday, at least."

Ratchet nodded, already focused on Will's wings, and silence fell as the medic worked, fixing dents where it was needed, handling damaged sensor nodes and joints, and leaving the rest to heal itself. A minute of lingering on the NEST etchings on his wings, examining the marks that Will could feel were almost healed, and then the feeling of hands against his wings moved on to the next injury. It wasn't too different from being a human. He had been used to various scrapes and bruises. He was special ops and NEST came with its own kind of training, so working through scrapes and bruises had been normal for him. Being a Seeker hadn't changed it much. At the most, it made it easier since mechs came with the ability to turn sensors off if needed, although Will had no doubt that Ratchet would have his aft if he as much as thought about doing that outside of emergencies.

"I'm impressed you lasted as well as you did," Ratchet finally said. "Most mechs would have problems keeping up with Ironhide's training for three hours. Being a Seeker has nothing to do with that. He's a demanding teacher but he is competent and simply wishes to give you the best chance of surviving. He just isn't always aware of the limitations of other mechs, which is why I stepped in when I did. He would have kept pushing you until you hit the four-hour mark or you couldn't get up anymore, but that's Ironhide, too."

Will shrugged slightly. "I've had drill sergeants like that. They do it for your own good. The Seeker hates it but it knows it's good to learn and it likes being around Ironhide. I'm in charge during the training but it does pay a little attention to Ironhide, too. Tries, at least." A soft snort. "In between fantasising about him, but it was too tired to do that today, at least."

Ratchet turned his attention to the prominent dent near one of Will's wings and it still surprised him how much of a relief it was when something wing-related was fixed. It had to be a Seeker-specific thing, the large amount of attention spent on the wings, because it didn't draw nearly the same reaction when the medic handled the dent on his hip.

Silence again. Ratchet worked and Will waited quietly, and finally the medic stretched again and put the tools aside.

"I patched up what needed it. The rest will fix itself." A long look at Will, looking for something in just the same way Ironhide had and Will forced himself to stay still even as the Seeker stirred uneasily in its haze. "You seem stable today," he finally remarked.

Will shrugged again. "It... works. I think we managed to compromise. The energy-thing is Seeker-specific. I think we managed to burn off enough that the Seeker's dealing with what's left and I'm left mostly clear-headed again. Mostly. It's still there, just... less than before. I can deal with it."

Another tool appeared, scanning one optic in what looked like a perfect echo of a human doctor checking a human patient, and Will just watched him with bemusement.

"Interesting concept," Ratchet finally said and lowered the tool. "It's still there?"

"It's still there," Will confirmed. "Just... almost asleep. Distracted, I guess." It was hard to put into word but he tried, anyway, fumbling for ways to describe concepts he wasn't even sure about in the first place. "I think it's because human brains aren't wired the same way Seekers are. It's trying hard to keep those compromises and I was willing to try just about anything but interfacing to handle that energy-problem. It picked up on it and when flying didn't help... I guess this was its solution. I don't have the same flight-or-frag reaction going on that it does, so it went into a sort of mental recharge for a while to let me try and deal with it. I don't think it's going to last for long, though, not if the energy doesn't go away completely. Then the problem is just going to get worse until something snaps."

A stay of execution, Will didn't say, but the words hung in the air, anyway, and Ratchet nodded.

"I would like to tell you that I have a solution, but I don't. It's a Seeker-specific problem and Seekers deal with it in their own way. If any of them have ever gone to a medic to find a solution, it hasn't been recorded anywhere. They consider it a part of them. It's programming and they instinctively know what to do about it."

"Interfacing," Will said and resisted the urge to rub his face tiredly. The words did bring up another question to the forefront of his processors and Will asked before he could stop himself. "How do you know so much about them?"

Ratchet arched an optic ridge and Will elaborated. "I get that Cybertronians have a lot less hangups about these things than humans do, but I'm pretty sure it's not standard medical knowledge to know that much about Seeker programming, much less how to interface with Seekers, and especially not for an Autobot medic."

"It could be. I was a medic before the war ever started," Ratchet pointed out but his amusement betrayed the words, and when he continued, it was more thoughtful, more serious. "I have had Seekers as interface partners before the war. They were fairly aloof and generally not too tolerant of ground-pounders in those days... still are, for the most part, but these days they have become forced to work with ground-bound mechs and have become moderately more tolerant compared to what they once were. In those days they were quite a bit more trine-focused and elitists, but there were exceptions – among them and among the lowly ground-pounders. Medics are respected in any army I have known of and I took an interest in the particular medical issues of their breed. That particular combination was enough to bring me in contact with them, and draw the interest of a few as well." He tapped lightly on Will's wings. "For one, Seekers have sensitive wings and medics have sensitive hands. It's a useful combination."

It wasn't even a caress of his wings but it was still enough to send a shiver through Will's processors and he could definitely see Ratchet's point. Sure, the Seeker was overcharged and in desperate need of an overload, but it had still been a lot stronger of a reaction than Ironhide's touches had gotten as he had forcibly instructed Will and corrected his stands. The touch hadn't been much but between it and Will's musings, it was enough.

With a soft whirr, Will's heating fans turned on, and it took him several long seconds to realise what had even happened, much less turn them off again, and he snapped at the presence in his mind as soon as it was under control.

_We agreed on Ironhide. This is **Ratchet**_.

The only response he got was vague annoyance, displeasure as being torn out of its rest again, and the words that followed were distinctively miffed.

_I recharge. You reacted. _

Definitely miffed, as much as from being roused to being accused of breaking its word and potentially invoking Ratchet's wrath in a fear that was very real in the back of its mind, even half into recharge as it was. Will blinked mentally, watching in stunned silence as the Seeker part returned to its rest and he noticed with no small bit of discomfort that the insistent reaction from the heating fans remained even as he tried to keep them under control.

The Seeker had been in recharge. He hadn't noticed it until then, but looking back, it was true. It hadn't just been resting during the training with Ironhide. It had continued throughout the medical check-up, which meant that it hadn't actually been aware enough to react to Ratchet's touch.

_Slag._

"Will?" Patient, amused, and Ratchet was watching him, and Will groaned softly in response.

"I can't even blame the Seeker for that one. Sorry, Ratchet. It... I can't even tell you it won't happen again. _Slag it_. You're a giant alien robot. I'm not supposed to be attracted to you."

"Not that giant," Ratchet reminded him, a bit amused. "You're a good bit taller than I am these days. To remind you of a comparison you once made yourself, Will, you could be said to have been brought back to the mental equivalent of your teenage years. You may not care much for it but your body will react entirely independent of you at times. Perhaps there is genuine attraction. Perhaps it is merely a physical response. Either way, the Seeker itself seems without blame in this case." Will's sudden urge to groan must have shown because Ratchet offered him a sympathetic look and changed the topic. "You do seem to have been dealing decently with all of this in the past few days. Would you feel comfortable being around humans?"

_Sarah,_ his immediate reaction was, and his instant agreement died on his lips before he could quite form the words.

Would he really, he wondered, and the way Ratchet kept watching him, he suspected that immediate agreement would not necessarily have been a good thing. Humans were small and fragile and delicate, and his claws alone could tear apart a decent-sized truck. Did he really have enough self-control and self-awareness to keep anything from happening without forcing himself to stay thirty feet away and be completely still to keep from doing anything wrong? It was Sarah out there, his once-wife and the mother of his child. He was a Seeker now, as big as Optimus Prime and with a lot stronger primal instincts to drive him, and there was really no room at all for mistakes around humans.

Was he really going to be comfortable around humans after only a week in his new shape?

Ratchet kept watching and finally Will looked up, voice quiet and serious.

"I'm not sure, but I want to try. I don't think I'll ever stop worrying about hurting someone on accident, but I'm never going to get used to anything if I stay hidden away here. I have a wife out there, Ratchet. I have friends. I want to try. Maybe I'll fail and spend the whole time in a corner of the room to keep from doing any kind of accidental damage, but I have to try. It's the only hold I have on my humanity anymore."

It had obviously been the right response, because the medic relaxed fractions of an inch and nodded slowly. "I would suspect that your bonded would very much like to see you, too. She has been insistent in her enquiries about you."

_Sarah._

"I would like that," he agreed quietly.

The medic nodded again and gesture for Will to get off the infirmary bed again. "I will let her know. Another thing... Optimus will make it official later today, but effective immediate, the restrictions on you have been lifted." Will's optics widened slightly in surprise and even the Seeker reacted to that, torn out of its clouded rest as Ratchet continued. "You are a Seeker and they have never responded well to being grounded. Just keep in mind that Starscream and his trine are still out there and we will have no reliable way to assist you if you encounter them. You are free to fly but I will have your aft if you get yourself offlined."

_Flight,_ the Seeker whispered joyously, the thrill of the flight coursing through Energon lines and processors, the instinctive desire to take off and never, ever land, tear through clouds and rain and until the sky was blue turned dark turned black and there was nothing but him and stars and the endless emptiness of space at the edge of the atmosphere, and Will took a tight grip on it and willed it to calm down again.

_Sarah,_ he repeated; quiet and firm and unrelenting, and the Seeker paused and relented and backed down, and Will's frame slowly released the sudden tension in it again.

"I appreciate it," he said quietly. "But I have to talk to Sarah."

The medic nodded, and if there was a slight touch of pride in his features at his words, Will didn't mention it. Seeker or not, he was still a goddamn human, and he had a wife he adored, and if there ever came a day when flight won over spending time with his loves ones, he slagging well didn't deserve them anymore.

And the Seeker, resting quietly in the back of his mind, paused and wondered and finally, bemusedly, murmured its silent agreement.


	10. Interlude 2

**A/N:** Epps wanted his say. Since Will and Sarah were being difficult, I let him ;) This interlude runs parallel to the story up until now, giving a bit of an outside point of view to it all.

* * *

Robert Epps had never considered his position as Second in Command of NEST as anything more than another source of paperwork, courtesy of one commanding officer who was entirely too good at delegating said paperwork and a bunch of alien robots who caused just as many problems sometimes as they fixed.

He had never considered his position as anything more than another source of paperwork... and then said commanding officer had been killed and brought back in a series of events that still made Epps' head hurt, and the alien robots had been distracted at best by the new robot in their midst, and Epps had been left trying to juggle it all, demands for explanations from generals, insistent video conferences with congressional lackeys and politicians that he kept postponing, and above it all was NEST, just as worried as their new commander was, and rumours were running rampant even as Epps tried to keep it all under control.

"I can't keep making up excuses," he said to Optimus two days into the deal, eyes red from lack of sleep and with only copious amounts of coffee keeping him going at all. "I know what's going on. The team does, too – they don't know for sure but they've guessed enough to get the basics, even if they're not going to tell anyone else. But nobody outside knows and I'm running out of excuses with the brass. Somebody has to make a decision, and they better do it fast."

Preferably something better than 'he got turned into an alien plane like the ones that've fragged up the Air Force every time they've had a run-in, and now he's staying with the 'Bots', too,' but Epps wasn't even going to object to that one, as long as he got some orders he could use.

He wasn't as good at reading Big Buddha as the kid was, but something in Optimus' expression at that told Epps that the big mech had already considered that particular problem. He wasn't surprised, either. It was what leaders did, and Optimus Prime was the best there was at the job.

"His human body died in defence of this planet," the mech said with the same regret in his voice as Epps had heard from him or Will a few times before, when there were hard decisions to be made and no easy way to handle it, and that voice had never been a good sign.

Epps' grip on the papers in his hand tightened slightly at that but that was all the reaction he could really muster, too tired to feel much at all as he guessed where the conversation was heading. "Killed in action?"

"It would be easier," Optimus agreed quietly, "for everyone. We can not afford to have a Cybertronian under human jurisdiction, much less a Seeker."

Human jurisdiction, who'd either pick him apart to see how he worked or send him after Starscream or Megatron or whoever had pissed them off the most that week and get him killed trying, and Epps nodded, suddenly tired of all of it, of politics and fighting and stupid, Pit-spawned 'Cons.

"I'll get it done."

If there was brief gratitude in Optimus' expression, Epps ignored it. It was human business, with a human soldier, and the big boss had enough to handle if the tiredness in his stance and the hard expression on Ratchet's face when he'd passed the medic earlier was anything to go by.

The paperwork for that kind of thing was uncomfortably familiar to all of them, and Epps was already going through a mental checklist by the time the rest of his brain caught up with him and he wanted nothing more than to grab his stupid commander, whatever the hell body he was in, go get slagfaced, kick his ass, and then crash for the next week.

He had no condolence letter to write, at least. Sarah already knew.

He stared at the paperwork in his hand, meaningless and useless, then nodded to Optimus and turned and left with a tired sigh and a lingering longing for something stronger than coffee. The human-turned-Seeker was out there somewhere and he tried not to wonder where as he made his way back to his own office.

_I'm sorry, man, _he said silently.

The teams would have to be told. General Morshower. Liaisons, support crews, politicians...

But for the moment, Epps really didn't care.

* * *

"Nobody wants to _tell_ me anything," Sam said frustrated on the third day, after six windows had been shattered by a jet hitting the sound barrier way, way too close to the ground and Diego Garcia's flight control had stayed tight-lipped and wide-eyed when Epps had tried to grill them about it. "He died and got turned into a robot-jet-thing like Starscream and all 'Bee tells me is that he can't say anything and he's sorry and that Ratchet's working on it. I asked Optimus, and he told me the same. He's my _friend._ He hauled Optimus halfway around the world because Simmons told him I asked him to, kicked Galloway out of a plane, and pretty much killed his military career if I'd been wrong, and he did it anyway." A deep breath, tanned fingers running through unruly hair. "And I heard Ratchet tell the big guy that he's unstable and they don't want him around humans yet, but it's Will and... I just want to help. He'd have done the same for me."

Epps didn't ask where Sam got most of his intel from and it probably didn't matter, anyway. Most likely, their NEST team had talked. Sam was all but an honorary member, anyway, and they all liked the kid. The 'unstable' part was new, and Epps made a mental note to ask Ratchet about it next time he saw the mech in a decent mood. He'd gotten close enough to exchange a grand total of one greeting with the man-turned-mech before Ratchet had hauled Will off again the night before, and he'd gotten the impression that even that had been an accidental encounter their medic would have preferred to have avoided. What little Epps knew about reading Seeker expressions, Will hadn't looked unstable to him, but it might've explained why Ratchet had frowned. Will had passed by other humans on base, word of mouth had told him that, but none of them close enough to talk to him, much less get within easy reach, and maybe that was why. He'd ask about it when he got the chance... if he ever made his way out of the office with the ever-mounting paperwork again in the first place, because he was starting to understand why Will had dumped so much of the crap on his Second in Command instead of dealing with it himself.

"Can't help you," he finally said and he probably looked as tired as he sounded, even to himself. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm supposed to be in charge and they don't even tell _me_ anything. Nobody even mentioned the word 'unstable' to me. You probably know more than I do right now. I get the paperwork and the headaches and occasionally I try to pry some intel out of them and they give me some smooth-talking slag that don't tell me anymore than I already knew."

The kid ran his hand through his hair again and looked twitchy in a way Epps had learned pretty fast meant that he was nervous, and then he sighed. He liked the kid, he really did, but right now anything new meant another headache and he already had enough of those to deal with. "Listen, kid... I'm sure 'Bee's got his reasons, but if I hear anything, I'll pass it on."

Because it was Will, and the kid was worried, and it was the only thing he could do right now, and if it added another headache to his collection, he could deal with that, too. The kid had brought back Big Buddha. If passing on a little intel if he got it would make the whole thing a bit easier to deal with, then Epps would do that, because there was slag-all else he could do.

The kid seemed to have realised that, too, because while it clearly wasn't what he'd hoped for, he nodded and sighed, anyway.

"Thanks. I appreciate it, I really do. I'm just... I wish I could do something. Waiting sucks."

Epps knew that, too, but he'd had a lot more experience dealing with it, and he offered only a short, tired nod in return, and watched as the kid turned and left and his mind returned to a million things that still needed handled, and every single slagging one preferably should have been done a week ago.

Waiting sucked but for the moment, there was nothing else they could do.

* * *

He ran into Sarah Lennox on the fourth day, looking as tired as Epps himself felt and with a hard look in her eyes that wouldn't have been there in a world where Will was human and alive and well. He felt suddenly guilty for not having been there at all for her, wondered where four days had gone and realised a moment later that he wasn't actually even _sure_ of that, and Sarah tugged a lock of hair behind her ear and just watched him.

Epps was silent for long second, not sure what to say at all-

_-I'm sorry, I should have done something, I should have stopped him, I should-_

- and then Sarah broke the silence and took that headache away from him, at least.

"Ironhide is looking out for him," she said quietly. "He's- I trust him. I made him promise." A small, uncomfortably shrug – she was trying her damned best to handle it, and Epps wasn't sure if he was envious or grateful that he had paperwork to distract him, at least – and then she sighed. "I don't know how much they've told you."

_-Nothing, they told me nothing-_

- And Epps sighed, too, because that wasn't her headache. "I know some. I was there. Sam told me..." _That Will isn't stable,_ he didn't finish, because he didn't know if she knew and slag it all, it was no way to hold a conversation, and he had always hated that 'classified' crap.

Sarah must have thought the same, because she offered a wry, small, tired smile. "They're worried he's going to be dangerous." She took a deep breath and anger flared in her eyes in an instant, was replaced by fear and worry and desperation, and Epps hugged her tightly as she crumpled against him. "It's _Will._ It's my _husband,_ Bobby. He'd never hurt me and they still won't let me see him without someone there. To _stop him_." The last part was spat out in between sobs, coherency melting into grief that had been kept at bay for too long already, and Robert Epps could do nothing but hold her and offer a wrinkled uniform to cry in.

"It'll be okay," he whispered, held her protectively and felt her grip him tightly in return. "It's Will. You know him. He's going to be fine. I promise, Sarah."

Her desperate grip lessened slightly and Epps fell silent and let her take her time.

_And so help me,_ he silently promised,_ I will have your fraggin' ass for target practice if you make a liar outta me, Lennox._

* * *

By day five, the sound of something fast and alien hitting the sound barrier way too close to base was starting to become almost familiar, even if it still would have hauled Epps out of bed if he'd been sleeping. As it was, he'd been buried in paperwork and video conferences and uncomfortable conversations with people who didn't know whether to offer their condolences about the loss or congratulate Epps on his promotion, and he settled for a resigned sigh and would have spent the rest of the day keeping track of a million stupid things if he hadn't gone looking for Optimus Prime and run into Ironhide on the way.

Almost literally, at that. He knew Tall, Dark, and Not-Too-Handsome well enough to recognise annoyance when he saw it, and Ironhide turned his head and looked like he was about to snap at whatever unfortunate soul had dared to interrupt him-

- And then he had recognised Epps and stood down again and Epps was not too proud to admit he was more than a bit relieved at that, too.

The smart thing to do when Ironhide was annoyed, they knew from experience, was stay the hell away from him, but after five days of worry and anger and paperwork and way too little sleep, Epps didn't think he had _anything_ left that could muster the coherency to do 'smart' if his life depended on it.

Instead, he did the one thing that he'd wanted to for days, levelled a frown at the mech, and verbally paraded right up in front of the firing squad and flipped it the middle finger.

"So, anyone going to tell me what the _frag_ is going on with Will?"

Ironhide just watched him, but there wasn't that distinctive sound of cannons charging that usually followed when he was really pissed, and then the mech slumped slightly, tiredly, and Epps felt a moment of painful sympathy.

"He is a Seeker," Ironhide said, weariness shining through what Epps didn't doubt was supposed to have been a flat response. A Seeker, like that was supposed to explain everything, and Epps heard a frustrated sigh and took a moment to realise it had come from himself.

"You know, I appreciate having one of you actually willing to talk to me, but I'm not an Autobot. I'm human. 'Seeker' doesn't mean slag to me as anything other than some winged 'Con fraggers that need a goddamn nuke up their exhaust pipe, and they need it yesterday."

Ironhide snorted and there was no humour in the gesture, and if Epps hadn't been worried before, he sure as slag would have been now. "That would be an accurate assessment."

Not much help at all, that, and Epps bit back another frustrated sound as his sleep-deprived mind worked as fast as it could to make whatever sense it could of it. Will was a Seeker. Seekers were Seekers, Seekers were fragging pests, Seekers had issues, Seekers were brutal, Seekers were deadly, Seekers were _'Cons_-

His brain stumbled to a terrified conclusion even as Ironhide was moving again, heading somewhere else and probably blow something up because that was the Ironhide method of dealing with slag, and Epps raised his voice to get his attention.

"He's stronger than you think!"

A pause, Ironhide hesitating for fractions of a second, and Epps saw his chance again, five days of stress and worry and frustration finding an outlet in his anger.

"He's your friend! You know him! He's stupid and he's stubborn and he's a goddamn danger to his surroundings sometimes, but he's not a 'Con. Slag it, Ironhide! _He's stronger than you think!"_

Ironhide was still for a moment as perfect silence followed, and then he turned and left and Epps sank back into the Jeep, tired and desperate and with dark, nauseating worry settling in the pit of his stomach.

_Don't make me a liar, Lennox,_ he mouthed soundlessly, forehead resting against the steering wheel and trying not to think about Sarah and Annabelle and having to tell a woman that her husband didn't just die but turned traitor, and he closed his eyes tightly and repeated the words, silent and desperate._ Please. Please, don't make me a liar._

* * *

On the sixth day he managed to corner Ratchet, the medic on his way to the training ground Epps had discovered that Ironhide had claimed for himself, and he had steeled himself, decided the mech had looked in less of a bad mood than the previous days, and took his chance.

He'd wondered about what to say if he got the chance but when he finally found himself in the situation, he was still too tired, too worried, and too stressed to manage much of anything, and what came out was weary and resigned.

"What do I have to do to get an actual update on him?" he asked and didn't bother to elaborate on who 'him' was, because they both knew that just fine. "You want me to beg? Because let me tell you, I'm pretty close to that right now."

Not particularly dignified but he didn't particularly care and he continued as Ratchet's expected annoyance failed to make its scheduled appearance in favour of what looked like an almost concerned frown.

"He's my friend and you're freaking the frag out of us. 'Bee won't tell the kid anything. Sarah isn't allowed near him without one of you around, and when I ran into 'Hide yesterday, he talked like Will was about to pack up and join the 'Cons."

There, it was said, and Epps sighed and crossed him arms and waited for the verdict, too tired to really work up the proper energy to put into it all, and with bits and pieces of a dozen mental checklists flickering in his mind, scrambled together and utterly useless by now. The memory of a paper with his signature and a death certificate he would remember in painful detail for the rest of his life, and then Ratchet was speaking and Epps looked up again, a second slower than normal as his mind tried to keep up.

"You need to recharge."

Epps shrugged, a silent gesture of what-else-is-new. "Later." Next month, maybe, or next year. Or maybe when he was dead, because they all knew damn well that fighting 'Cons was never a safe duty.

Definitely a disapproving frown from the medic, and maybe it was the lack of sleep that delayed Epps' common sense for long enough for him to straighten a bit and frown right back. "He's had my back in battle, Ratchet. Now I've got his. You want me to sleep? Fine. Tell me what the frag is going on and I'll consider it."

The medic seemed to consider his words for a moment, and then his expression softened just a bit. "He is learning to adjust." Softly – gently, almost – and if that wasn't a bad sign, Epps didn't know what was. "He has two personalities in his processors to deal with now, two distinct entities – the human and the Seeker spark and programming. Even at his most human now, he will never be the person he was before. Never completely. The Seeker will always be there." A heartbeat. "I am sorry."

Sorry that Will was apparently a schizophrenic alien robot with wings and an attitude now, and Epps rubbed his face with his hand, too tired to even question the words. It was NEST and while it was true that this situation was probably right on top of the 'Weird Slag That's Happened' list, there were a few close runner-ups, too. You didn't stick around if you didn't have a suspension of disbelief that was a lot more flexible than most.

"Frag," he muttered under his breath and rubbed his face again, trying to get some of the exhaustion to go away. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Ratchet was silent for just long enough for that gnawing worry to start to make an appearance again as he watched Epps, probably wondering how much to say, and then he finally responded. "He is... improving. For now, it looks well."

Which probably meant that asking about how he'd be doing later was a bad idea, and Epps settled for a nod. Maybe he should ask, maybe he'd regret later that he didn't, but there was only so much he could deal with at a time and none of them were in any position to guess about the future.

"Thank you," he said and made a vague gesture of something even he wasn't sure what was. "I'll... go sleep now."

Sleep, somewhere away from paperwork and people and fragging phones, and maybe he could crash on the human-sized couch someone had put in one of the Autobot-sized hangars. They wouldn't poke him, at least, not with the threat of Ratchet there to stop them.

"Do that," Ratchet agreed, and even the slight note of 'or else' in his voice wasn't enough to stop Epps' lips from twitching slightly in pale amusement, much more used to hearing that sort of thing directed at Optimus Prime or Ironhide instead.

He was tired, he was worried, and he still didn't know much about anything that was going on, but Will was getting better and he had doctor's orders to get some sleep, and as Ratchet turned and continued on his way, that was good enough for now.

It had to be.


	11. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Aaand this marks the end of the first sort-of story arc. Updates will continue like usual once a week, the next chapter will just be the start of the next sort-of story arc :D And probably the story arc that warrents the M-rating so, uh, yeah. Consider that a warning/promise-if-I-actually-manage *cough*. Also, explanation snuck into this chapter. I hadn't planned it but Ironhide wanted answers :p

* * *

Afternoon found Will waiting on one of the disused runways, flexing his clawed fingers and pacing restlessly on worn concrete in a vain attempt to rid himself of at least some of the mix of nervousness and excess energy that nagged at the edge of his processors. It would have been bad enough with just one of the things to deal with, but together they created a never-ending feedback loop, nervousness feeding energy feeding nervousness, and the Seeker part was sending almost panicked looks to the sky, torn between taking off because it _could,_ and staying because this was important, this was Sarah, this was _bonded_, and Will did the only thing he could do and tried to keep from being swept away in the Seeker's emotions, too.

It had been easier when the thing had been asleep in the back of his mind, but being told it was free to fly had roused it and it had stayed awake every since... and with it came the familiar, restless, almost claustrophobic echo of the excess energy that had sent him into that desperate flight in the first place.

Another restless flex of clawed fingers, fear settling in the pit of his stomach as a dozen lines and as many possible reactions flashed before his optics and he still didn't know what to say, one attempt after another considered and dismissed as he waited for Sarah's arrival.

The sound of tires against concrete, a vague sensation of something there in the back of his processors – not a bond as much as simple awareness of the presence of someone known and trusted – and he forced himself to stand still as the familiar Search and Rescue Hummer approached him on the runway and came to a halt a bit away, a small, human figure making its way out. Hesitation, the slight tightening of hands against the door that Will only noticed because he had been watching so closely, and then Sarah shut the door and stepped back, and nervousness turned to sudden panic as Ratchet headed back towards the hangars and left the two figures on the runway alone. So small, so fragile, processors kicking into overdrive-

_-Big, clumsy, confused, **dangerous**-_

- and then the Seeker stepped in, soundless murmurs and feelings of reassurance, of trust, of care and affection and protection, and Will clenched his fists and forced the panic aside.

Soft footsteps against concrete as Sarah approached and while he had seen her a few times since he had first woken up in the infirmary, this was so very different. There had been other mechs there, someone to keep an eye on him, and she had been kept at a safe distance, and now...

He was big and clumsy and dangerous on the ground, and he hadn't been given the time at all to get used to it, and he sent a desperate thought to the Seeker even as Sarah came closer, familiar features still so foreign to him as he viewed them through alien optics.

_Help me. Please._

A startled moment of surprise-

_-Understanding, trust, promise, **care**-_

- and then he was moving, thirty feet of alien war machine kneeling carefully on the runway, and there was nothing but complete surrender as he rested the back of his hands against concrete, lethal fingers kept perfectly still as the small human stopped only a few feet away from him.

Silence, waiting for her verdict with icy fear running through his every Energon line – there had always been an audience before, never been a chance to talk alone, never been a chance to really _react_ – and then Sarah made a small sound, soft and tired and worried, and he had never been more proud of her, never felt more undeserving, than when he saw her reach out and felt an infinitely small human hand against a much, much larger metal finger.

Flesh against metal, skin against alloy, steady heat against the unevenness of his own body temperature as it responded to heat and cold and wind and rain and atmosphere, and he opened his hand a bit more, yielding soundlessly and silently offering his own encouragement in return.

She didn't speak and if her hand trembled almost imperceptibly, Will didn't mention it. Whatever the Seeker part of him might think, the breed was downright ugly from a human point of view, and the distinctively non-organic looks didn't help on the comfort factor, either. Ironhide, Ratchet, Bumblebee... Autobots in general tended to look a lot more organic than the 'Cons, metal or not, and Will was painfully aware of the sight he made, every part, every claw, every curve and joint and plate clearly created with war in mind. Ratchet was a medic. Bumblebee was a scout. Even Optimus hadn't been sparked for war, and the few Autobots who were still had less of an alien appearance than the 'Cons did.

Blue optics and Autobot insignia or not, William Lennox looked like a Decepticon, and the Seeker shifted uncomfortably in his mind at the reminder as they both waited silently, unmoving and apprehensive, for any sign at all about how the encounter would go.

A subconscious scan responded somewhere in Will's systems, revealed a normal body temperature and a slightly elevated pulse in the small being in front of him, and then she pursed her lips in a familiar, determined expression and hesitated for only a second to allow him to object before she sat down carefully in the palm of his hand, a gingerly hold on his finger with one small hand and resting the other on a wide, metallic palm.

Heat, heartbeat, softness, _trust,_ and Will's optics shuttered, and there was nothing he wouldn't have done for her in that moment, and the soft, hesitant sound of a gentle croon whispered through the air as the Seeker added its agreement.

He lifted his hands carefully, the unoccupied one resting slightly below the other if she should even look like she might lose her balance, and only the way her pulse sped up slightly on his scanner revealed that she was anything other than perfectly at ease in his hand.

He should ask her about Annabelle, about how she was doing, about how they were both doing, a million questions and a million worries and a million apologies, and all he found himself able to do was listen to the sound of the silence between them, strangely soothing and comfortable as the Seeker feel silent, too, and Will bowed his head slightly and cradled the precious being in his hands with infinite care.

_I love you,_ he said silently.

Sarah shifted, rested her forehead against the coolness of one metal finger before she moved again and curled up in his hand and Will's spark twisted at the memory of the same motion repeated on their couch back home too many times to count.

Human eyes met alien optics as she looked up, and then she smiled – tiredly, weakly, but genuine, and her response was as silent as his but still easily understood to someone as familiar with her smiles as he was.

_Don't ever scare me like that again,_ the smile said, and then she leaned against his fingers, closed her eyes, and simply rested like a hundred times before.

_I love you, too,_ she added in a soundless whisper.

And for just a moment, he was home again.

* * *

Ironhide had stopped pacing not long after Ratchet had returned to one of the main Autobot hangars. It was fascinating to watch from a purely medical standpoint – just about all Cybertronians could shield their bonds without even a second thought long before they reached adulthood. Watching the effects of an unshielded bond on someone as old as Ironhide was... interesting. Possibly, Ratchet mentally conceded, because he himself wasn't the one on the receiving end of it.

The restlessness Ironhide had displayed in the time leading up to the meeting between the human-turned-Cybertronian and his human bonded was clearly the effects of his bond with said Cybertronian, and Ratchet felt a bit reassured when that restless pacing had finally stopped. He had been impressed with the human female and her reactions to it all but still, it had all been in the company of someone else, and he was well aware that her response to it when she was finally alone with her bonded could be... rather less favourable, too.

He picked nothing up from his own bond with Ironhide – not surprising, considering that they were both quite capable of shielding it – and after watching the weapon specialist for long moments he finally asked the question that kept nagging his processors.

"How is he?"

Intakes vented as Ironhide waited for a moment – considering the situation, or possibly trying to make sense of the emotions he received – but he remained at ease and that was an encouraging sign, at least.

"Calm," the dark mech finally replied. "Relieved. I would assume the meeting went well."

There was more between the lines, silently letting Ratchet know that anything past that was personal and none of his slagging medical business, and Ratchet nodded slightly in acknowledgement to it all, spoken and unspoken, and knew that Ironhide would understand that, too.

Silence stretched for long moments and then Ironhide made some small sound, half frustration and half something Ratchet couldn't readily identify. "What is he?"

Ratchet's optics shuttered in a very human display of surprise. "A Seeker. I would not say 'of course', since the circumstances were rather unique, but medically speaking, he is a Seeker. You know that, Ironhide. You have seen him fly."

"That's my point," Ironhide frowned and blue optics narrowed at Ratchet. "He flies like an adult Seeker, but he can't block our bond unless I remind him to, and his processors run on core programming. Half the time when that thing takes over, it's like dealing with..."

"A sparkling?" Ratchet finished quietly. He had already gone over those same thoughts himself and with a lot more medical knowledge to assist him, too, and truthfully, Ironhide's question was not that much of a surprise. He had expected it eventually – not this soon, granted, but it was easy to forget that Ironhide did have some fast processors underneath it all.

Ironhide was silent, only a frown giving an idea of his feelings on that matter, and Ratchet continued. "He is not. Seeker sparklings do not have mating instincts the way he does and I would have stepped in if I had any doubts about the ethics of... this." The relationship that the Seeker seemed very much determined to initiate and which Lennox seemed to have agreed with, too, but Ratchet didn't mention that part, and as Ironhide snorted softly, it became clear that he didn't have to, either.

"I know it's got its optics set on me," the dark mech drawled. "That's why I'm asking. You're going to turn me into spare parts if I damage the human part, sure, I got that, but did you really think I'd _want_ to? I want to do this right. It's not Will's fault he got stuck with this and the least I can do is keep from fragging it up any further. I have to know what I'm dealing with, Ratchet, before I frag up something on accident. I'm not..." A pause, running scarred hands over his face in a surprisingly human gesture. "Slag it. I don't care what their programming says. If he's a slagging _sparkling_..."

Definitely some fast processors at work, and Ratchet's hopes for the whole situation improved marginally at that – there might still be plenty of ways for it all to end in disaster, anyway, but at least Ironhide seemed aware of the seriousness of it all. "To the best of my knowledge," he finally began, "the Seeker is a mature spark that was too weak to sustain itself. I have no way of confirming that theory, of course, but observing them for the past days, it's currently the most likely explanation I have." He made a soft sound, the tiredness and frustrations of the past week having caught up with even him. "I believed it to be a fully independent spark at first but observations would suggest otherwise. Every bit of programming he has shown suggests a mature spark but it has very little in terms of personality beyond that core programming. To the best of my knowledge, anything it has done so far that has been based on thoughts more complex that basic Seeker instincts has been a result of the human side instructing it."

Another long moment of silence and while Ironhide didn't look convinced, he didn't quite look ready to argue yet, either. "So that thing when Lennox isn't fighting it is what the 'Con Seekers would be without those Pit-spawned personalities to bug us?"

"Essentially, yes," Ratchet agreed. "Let us be honest, Ironhide – any genuine Seeker would have left us in favour of Starscream and his trine at the earliest opportune moment. They have never been Autobots by nature. Why send a Seeker to this place with Autobot markings if it would turn on us within mere Earth-days? Why bind it to a human if the Seeker would be strong enough to manage on its own? If we were truly desperate, we could have forced it to bond with a mech here and bound it to us through those means instead. That Seeker spark was never intended to inhabit a body of its own. It was never strong enough to survive. "

And following that logic, it would hopefully never be strong enough to take over completely and permanently, either, but that particular bit remained a theory that Ratchet hoped he was right about. Why join the Seeker spark to a human at all if it was fated to overpower the human part, anyway? He was not the most religious of mechs and granted, Primus was a god of the Cybertronians, not the humans, but still... Ratchet liked to think that their creator would spare at least a thought for the small, organic allies that fought at their side despite their fragile nature and the brutal nature of their enemies. Soldiers or not, war or not, Ratchet preferred not to think that a loving creator would pick apart the spark of one of an allied species and use it for little more than spare parts to complete the Seeker that had claimed their base for its territory.

"The Seeker was joined with Lennox for a reason," Ratchet said quietly, firmly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Ironhide. "The Seeker was never strong enough to survive on its own and no human spark is strong enough to carry a mech body, either, but it would not have to be. Two weak sparks joined together may burn brightly enough to remain alive, and the human side may remain enough in control to keep it from defecting at the first chance it gets."

Another frown from Ironhide and a glance at a wall in the direction where Lennox and his human bonded would be, and then he focused on the medic again.

"So getting rid of the Seeker..."

"Impossible," Ratchet said quietly. "I have no intentions of telling them that because that threat is one of the few effective weapons I do have to rein it in, but a human alone would not have the spark necessary to stay online in a Cybertronian body. Major Lennox would have lived as a human for perhaps another four or five decades, barring unforeseen events. Cybertronians live many times longer. Our sparks were intended to live in a physical body for longer than the human civilization has existed. Theirs were intended for bodies that for the most part do not live past a century. Removing the Seeker could be done but would kill them both. Lennox, perhaps, would live for a while past the removal of the Seeker, but eventually he would die as well." He straightened slightly and levelled a hard look at Ironhide, willing him to understand. "That is what you are 'dealing with' in them. They _have_ to reach a compromise. The Seeker itself may appear simple-minded at times but make no mistake, Ironhide – it is no sparkling. It is a mature Seeker displaying its core instincts and it is all the more dangerous for it. The only common sense it is likely to have at this point is what Lennox has managed to teach it. It will learn more in time but for now, it is very much guided by its core programming."

"Flight, fight, and 'face," Ironhide summarised. "So it's not too bright, but at least I'm not... " Another half-frustrated sound. "It's an adult, at least. Frag. Did _Lennox_ consent? He told me it wasn't all the Seeker the first time they went after me, but that was before you knocked some sense into it and I don't think he was himself back then, either. Now the thing's still interested in me, but I never asked-"

"-If Lennox agreed?" Ratchet finished. "Under normal circumstances this would fall under patient confidentiality but there is no reason to make this any harder to handle for him than it already is. I am unaware of the specifics of the compromise reached by him and the Seeker but at a guess and based on their behaviour around Optimus and myself, I would say that the compromise they agreed on is you." He shrugged. "Is that consent? That is a matter between you, your conscience, and Lennox. I will tell you this – Seekers were not sparked for celibacy. You can function perfectly fine without 'facing, whereas a Seeker will become physically and mentally affected by it. Lennox is still coming to terms with it all but he is aware of the issues of being a Seeker build. Is it consent when there is no other realistic option available? He will adapt, because that is in _his_ spark, but until then... tread carefully, Ironhide. For the sake of everyone involved."

Ironhide turned his head again to look at the direction their new Seeker would be in, and then he looked away again with a troubled frown. He didn't speak and Ratchet wasn't going to force him to. Not all of the adaptation necessary would be on the part of the human in question and as Ratchet watched, Ironhide sat down, a tired expression on his features.

"Frag," he cursed, low and sparkfelt, and then fell silent again.

And in the privacy of his processors, Ratchet added his quiet agreement.


	12. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I would like to take this chance to brag about/sing the praises of the absolutely fantastic Noctaval on LJ/waxburden on dA, who did an incredible piece of fanart for this monster of a fic, of the scene in chapter 5 where Ironhide tries to comfort Will. Since FFNet doesn't like internet addresses much, the link can be found on my profile. Thank you so, so much again! It's awesome and amazing and fantastic and it's so my new wallpaper for my laptop :D

* * *

Ironhide came out of recharge in free-fall. The world was spinning, his fuel tanks churning, processors dizzy and rattled and confused, and it took him until his fingers dug marks into the berth below him that he realised he was on solid ground and the world wasn't spinning and intakes vented roughly as systems that had been kicked into instant overdrive tried to calm again.

_Slag._

The feeling lessened slightly and his processors cleared enough from their instinctive responses to actually _think_ and a moment later the dark mech snarled and pushed back on the bond that had caused it all.

_Lennox!_

Shock, surprise, then guilt, and then the feelings and the unnerving sensation of _falling_ faded and was gone as the bond was shielded again. Ironhide bit back a snarl and got to his feet an instant later, stomping out of the room and heading for one of the main hangars in the hazy light of approaching dawn. A quick brush of his bond with Ratchet revealed the medic already up and moving – and not surprisingly, present in the same hangar Ironhide was aiming for – and Ironhide's massive build was just a bit more intimidating than it had to be when he stalked inside and startled several soldiers by the door.

"How long has he been up there?" Ironhide demanded as he reached Ratchet by the massive screens, earning a brief glance from the medic before blue optics focused on the displays again. The human technicians were more aware of him, several of them trying to get a better look at him without being too obvious about it but Ironhide ignored it, used to the reaction. His time was spent with fellow Autobots and the human front line teams, not the scientists or support crews.

"About half an Earth-hour," Ratchet responded and Ironhide knew him well enough to hear that carefully hidden amusement in the words. "Why? Did he wake you up?"

Ironhide barely bit back the snarl that wanted to get out – Primus, but he hated to get pulled out of recharge that early with no warning – and forced himself to watch the screen instead and bite out an almost-civilized response. "You fragging well know he did." Another moment, flexing powerful hands, and his anger drained a lot faster as he actually looked at the screens instead of just glaring at them, one steadily-rising number drawing his attention. "Ninety-nine miles up," he said as the meaning of the numbers finally registered in his processors and watched as two digits became three a moment later.

"One hundred," Ratchet confirmed, glancing at another readout that made little sense to Ironhide. "Not all of it straight up, either. He stopped to play on the way."

That memory of churning fuel tanks again and Ironhide forcibly banished that thought from his processors before the dizziness could set in again. "Free-fall," he guessed.

A nod from Ratchet and frag it if the slagger didn't sound amused again. "I'm sure it was an educational experience." He paused and his voice was marginally more sympathetic when he continued. "He'll learn to shield eventually. Until then, there is little you can go but remind him and bear it when his control slips. He's a Seeker, Ironhide. The sky is his element."

One hundred and two miles, and one of the human technicians frowned slightly and turned to Ratchet.

"How much further does he intend to go, sir? He just reached low Earth orbit. If he intends to continue like this, we'll have to start keeping an eye on more than just planes and weather balloons. There's a lot of space junk up there... and a lot of satellites. I know they're just going to file away any photos of him as classified, but he can still hit one on accident."

Ratchet didn't even pause, Ironhide forgotten – or more likely ignored – for the moment. "Track and warn for anything larger than fifty centimetres across. At the speed they are travelling with, a collision with one of that size would be critical if it struck at a vulnerable point. Add an additional warning for anything between thirty and fifty centimetres."

"Got it," the technician responded and keyed something. "Autobot Seeker, be aware that you're now in low Earth orbit and approaching the beginnings of the space debris field. Transmitting tracking program. Be aware of warnings of potential collisions."

The short series of chirps and whirrs of an automatic response was all the acknowledgement they got, and Ironhide frowned slightly as his own processors reminded him of something.

"How's 'Con activity in the area?"

Long way down if something went to the Pit, and 'Con Seekers were notoriously tricky little frags to deal with, Skywarp's lack of accuracy when teleporting long distances be damned, and Ironhide didn't for a second doubt that the day that winged pest of a 'Con got it right would be when it really counted. An update on the situation followed in shape of a data-burst from the medic and Ironhide took a look at it even as Ratchet answered and interrupted his broody thoughts.

"Nothing close enough to be a problem. That far up, they can contact him, but he's not going to listen."

"You sound sure of that," Ironhide commented and watched as the numbers on one screen climbed to one hundred and eight miles straight above and then the course seemed to even out a bit as the numbers slowed their steady climb.

"You heard his response," Ratchet replied and flipped through a series of read-outs on another screen, too fast for Ironhide to keep track of. "I told you, Ironhide. He's a Seeker. The sky is his realm and this is his first chance to fly without a leash on. Right now, even Starscream wouldn't be able to draw his attention."

Ironhide nodded, not really convinced but realistic enough to know that even if it hadn't been the case, there wasn't much they _could_ do to get him down, even if they wanted to.

The altitude reached one hundred and ten miles and stopped its steady count in favour of more erratic movement – one-nine, one-eight, one-nine as the Seeker it tracked stopped to stretch its wings properly again, and Ironhide wasn't going to admit that he was more than a bit relieved that Will still kept his shields up without being reminded a second time that morning.

The human technicians kept as close an eye on the screens as Ratchet did and Ironhide's attention turned to the other mech again as he reached out through their bond.

_How's he doing?_ he asked silently, the feeling of a worried frown seeping through the words across the connection.

A glance in his direction and then Ratchet was watching the screens again, his response as silent as Ironhide's had been. _He recharged for two hours by his own admission. He's trying to get rid of his energy build-up. _A snort. _At least he had the common sense to comm me before he took off._

Two hours was a lot less than Ironhide had preferred to hear, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask. Ratchet knew their Seeker was up there and he wouldn't have let Lennox take off if there had been a problem. He'd seen their medic boss Optimus Prime around with enough authority that he could probably have made Megatron bend over and take it, and Lennox wouldn't be up there if there'd been a medical reason to ground him.

_Is it going to work?_ he finally asked instead, genuinely curious as well, and Ratchet's response came without hesitation and with no small bit of annoyance.

_No. It's a different kind of energy. He's going to exhaust himself before he does anything more than get rid of the worst of it... as he should already be aware, given that he has tried that method once already._

A pause as Ironhide considered that. It was the first time he had really been around a Seeker and the whole thing, he suspected, was almost as educational for him as for the Seeker in question.

_Did you tell him that?_

Flatly. _Yes._

And Lennox obviously hadn't listened. Someone was in for an aft-kicking when they landed again, Ironhide was familiar enough with Ratchet's tone and emotions from painful experience to know that, and he let a whisper of amusement flow through their bond in response.

_I arranged some lessons from Sideswipe for him today._

Another pause, this time as Ratchet considered the words, and some of the annoyance faded, pushed aside by a thoughtful feeling with an undercurrent of a distinct smirk that told Ironhide that their wayward little Seeker had probably not been entirely graceful about dismissing Ratchet's advice, either.

_That should be... educational. I will observe, of course. Medical reasons. Sideswipe can be enthusiastic in his duty. _

_So that's what they call it these days,_ Ironhide snorted. _It might beat some sense into him. Take down the Seeker-ego a little. I'm going to test his weapons tomorrow and see what we have to work with. Looks like he scanned the basics of the weapons from the human jet as well, so we can work with what the humans use. I'll see if I can rig something with a little more punch for him than those missiles, too._

Ratchet nodded and it didn't take their bond for Ironhide to realise that his attention was back on the screens and their Seeker, read-outs scrolling across in lines at a steady pace. Still that annoyance in his stance, though, and Ironhide snorted softly and reached out through the still-tentative bond with the Seeker, only slowly lowering his mental shields when he was sure he wasn't going to be treated to another involuntary fall like the one that had woken him up.

Curiosity from his formerly-human friend, joy and the thrill of the flight, but still with attention spared for Ironhide, and he spoke before either of the two personalities stuck in that Seeker body could ask.

_For a supposedly smart mech, you sure are stupid sometimes, Lennox,_ he drawled silently and didn't need to elaborate as a quick glimpse of an annoyed Ratchet passed through from the less-experienced end of the bond.

Embarrassment was at the top of the complex set of emotions that followed in response, a flicker of apprehension that showed Ironhide that their new Cybertronian comrade hadn't lost his common sense completely; restlessness beneath that and an all-consuming feeling of guilt that hit Ironhide's processors with the force of Megatron's cannon, and he forcibly pulled himself away from it and felt Will regain control of it all, letting only a murmur of forced calm flow through his shields.

_Sorry._ It sounded genuine and Ironhide's only response was lowering his mental shields enough to offer Lennox silent comfort in return. He could understands the guilt, even if he couldn't do anything about it – pulled in a hundred different directions, a hundred things to piece together and fix and with no way to even begin – and so he settled for quiet support instead and Will sighed through the bond. _I needed to get away. The walls were... frag it, 'Hide. We're on an **island**, flat as a slagging pancake, and I got claustrophobic. I know this isn't going to work, I know it only bought me a few days last time and that only because you beat me up until I couldn't get up again, but I had to try. I can think again, at least. That's worth it._

The vague feeling of motion through the bond again, spinning through freezing air at thousands of miles per hour, but not enough that Ironhide tried to block it. A glance at the screens confirmed it, the erratic movements of altitude and position as Will and the Seeker pushed it as far as they could under Ratchet's watchful eye, and then Ironhide shook his head.

_Just come down before you run out of Energon and crash. I'm not fishing you out of that death-trap you call an ocean._

A vague feeling of agreement, and Ironhide didn't quite manage to suppress a sigh as he turned his attention to Ratchet again. "We're never getting him down from there again, are we?"

Ratchet snorted. "He is a Seeker. In an ideal world, they would spend more time in the sky than they ever would on the ground."

It had been so much easier before, Ironhide decided, when his human brother in arms had actually _been_ human and capable of taking orders and keeping his mind focused on something other than flying for more than two minutes at a time, and some of it must have echoed over the bond, because Ratchet glanced at him a moment later.

_He is not William Lennox anymore,_ the medic responded silently over their bond. _He will never be that person again. He is a Seeker now, with Seeker instincts and programming, and regardless of how much human behaviour he may show at times, he will never be properly human again. Yes, he used to be a soldier and take orders as such. He won't anymore, and the sooner you acknowledge that, the less frustration we will all face._

A second of silence, then two; remembering car washes and strategy lessons and those long first months of worrying about the small human ally he had suddenly been working with, and Ironhide's reply was uncharacteristically quiet.

_I know._

Another long moment and then Ironhide forced himself to think of something else and looked at the screen again to watch the altitude and position change erratically with the movements of the Seeker so far above. So maybe Lennox was stuck with a Seeker driven by some very basic programming and showed those issues more than a normal one would have, but if that kind of slag was common for all of them...

"How the frag does Megatron handle those things?"

They had enough problems with one of them, and sure, the 'Cons only had the command trine on Earth at the moment to the best of their intel, but that didn't change the fact that the fragger had handled an entire army of the winged pests when the War had first engulfed the whole of Cybertron. No matter how much Ironhide might hate the fragging 'Con, he still had to wonder just how Megatron had managed to make the damn things follow orders at all.

"He doesn't," Ratchet reminded him, a bit amused. "He has an Air Commander for that."

Silence as Ironhide paused to realise he was actually right, and in what sort of fragged-up world was dealing with Starscream the _lesser_ of two evils?

"Frag," he muttered and felt Ratchet's agreement through their bond as the medic glanced at him.

_When he has sufficiently recovered from the lessons with Sideswipe today, I plan to let him interact with Epps. He is not stable yet by any reasonable definition of the term but interacting more with humans might help ground him a bit more, mentally speaking. They were good friends before all of this. It may strengthen the human side of him._

Point taken, and Ironhide paused for another moment. _It'll be good for both of them and he's got more common sense than the Witwicky kid does._

_Who is none-too-patient about wishing to see him, too,_ Ratchet pointed out.

Ironhide snorted at that. _Him and the rest of this slagging alliance. He'll have to meet the human representatives sooner or later. I know you've been sending Prime regular little reports telling him it's too soon and he's too confused._

_The effects of being frozen in the Arctic and then kept imprisoned in stasis in a laboratory,_ Ratchet pointed out. _We needed a cover story, Ironhide. It was as good as any. By the time I run out of excuses, he should be stable enough to pass for a normal Autobot and not draw any uncomfortable questions in the process._

Silence again, watching the steady scroll of information on the screen, trying to look past the symbols to see what the Seeker would see and failing miserably in the process, and he sighed.

_Out of all the mech-builds, on all the planets, in all of the universe..._

Amusement. _… he got this one? I'm pleased to see you develop an interest in human culture._ Then, more serious, _Be there for him, Ironhide. He will need it._

And as the lines of information continued and the altitude began to rise again, Ironhide could do nothing but watch and wonder what one ground-bound mech could really do to keep a Seeker reined in.


	13. Chapter 11

**A/N:** The next two weeks are shaping up to be a little busy on the work front but I'll do my best to get the next chapter up within a week, anyway. *cough* But if it gets a day or two delayed, now you know why.

* * *

Will wasn't sure when things had started to go wrong, but he suspected it had been before he had ever set foot on the ground again after his morning flight. He had already found that he was unnaturally annoyed at the fact that he'd had to land at all, and there had been something stirring in the back of his new processors when Ironhide had mentioned training with Sideswipe that was definitely not the interest and arousal he had grown used to. He hadn't been sure if it had been a good or a bad thing – the Seeker had shown interest in Sideswipe as a potential interface partner before, if not as a mate – but the Seeker had pushed down the emotions again before Will could get to examine them any further and thus left him with nothing but resigned bewilderment.

He had been unnaturally annoyed when he had headed out for the lesson – the ground was annoying, the sand was annoying, the clouds were _in his slagging way_ – and it had been pure stubbornness that had kept him from calling off the training session at all, Ironhide's reaction be damned. He had energy to get rid of and Sideswipe was quick, brutal, and lethal, and that sort of training was exactly what he needed to handle those little Seeker issues.

Sideswipe was Sideswipe, and a Seeker hadn't been meant for ground-based fighting, and Will had been on his back within fifteen seconds, with one blade against his throat and the ghost of a smirk on the other mech's features, and the only warning Will got was the unusual, unnatural lack of the half attraction, half arousal that was normally there when he had been bested by someone stronger and more skilled than himself. The Seeker was attracted to Ironhide and enjoyed being confirmed in its choice of mate. The Seeker was attracted to Sideswipe...

The thought trailed off, and something stirred in the back of his processors as he got back on his feet, burned brighter and hotter in a sudden flare of emotion, and recognition clicked in a second too late to matter as the Seeker moved to the front of their processors and restless annoyance became so much more.

_**Not mate.**_

Sideswipe moved before Will had the chance to warn him, impossibly fast in a blur of silver and grey and then the Seeker was _off,_ five tons of jet transforming and taking off in the space of a heartbeat and the emotion burned bright and fierce and all-consuming as every last bit of Seeker instinct focused on crushing the ground-bound being that had challenged its superiority.

_Small, pathetic, worthless **thing-**_

- and he spun and turned, felt Sideswipe's sword barely miss him and defiance surge as his human awareness was caught up in the rush of it all as well, strength and grace and beauty and the Seeker snarled its defiance to the world around them-

- _slow, unworthy piece of **scrap-**_

- and there was nothing he could have done to stop it, even if he had wanted to anymore. The Seeker entwined with the human mind, backed off and approached and picked apart the aspects it needed in the space of a heartbeat, and the world glowed brighter and harsher and slowed as he saw what the Seeker saw and the impossibly fast movements of a living blade on wheels became slow, sluggish-

_- weak, vulnerable, useless **ground-pounder-**_

- and they landed on concrete with a defiant screech, hands and arms already transforming, and Will had less than a second to realise what was happening.

_**No!**_

No one had been stupid enough to give him missiles yet – _thank Primus –_ but the Gatling gun was functional as a just-in-case precaution and it was out and aimed in the second it took Will to react, and he would never know if the Seeker would have fired and it was a question he wasn't sure he ever wanted to have answered, either.

Sideswipe froze, balanced with impossible skill and two swords raised and ready to strike but not moving just yet, and thank Primus, Will realised, that someone had more sense that the Seeker currently did. One second, then two, stretching on endlessly as nobody seemed willing to even breathe-

- and then his bond surged, white-hot and blinding as pain flared through his spark, his processors, and he was screaming before he knew it, loud and high-pitched beyond human hearing, and an instant later it was joined by the only slightly lower-pitched sound of a familiar cannon charging.

Will froze, felt the Seeker do the same in stunned surprise – this was _mate,_ why didn't mate _get it_ – and the pain from the bond faded and was replaced by a maelstrom of anger, regret, and worry, and with grim determination resting right at the forefront of it all where the mech damn well knew the Seeker would feel it.

For a second he was tempted. He had no doubt that Ironhide could feel that, even if he was never, ever going to mention it to him, and for a moment he was painfully, horribly tempted. The Seeker was fast, the Seeker was skilled, but Ironhide slagging well knew what he was doing and had enough experience fighting the damn things to know how to target one. He knew what taking off now would look like – Seeker went 'Con, Seeker went _Seeker –_ and knew just as well that it would land him a blast straight through his spark, the bond with Ironhide left little doubt about that.

For a second he was tempted and hated himself for it, for being willing to put his friend through slag like that because he was a coward and too pathetic to do something about it himself-

- and then he pushed the stunned Seeker aside, triggered transformation sequences still unfamiliar to him to watch the gun vanish into the metallic jigsaw puzzle that was his new body, and offered silent feelings of regrets and apologies and resignation through their bond.

_I'm sorry._

Sideswipe moved back, blue optics dark and suspicious as he watched their Seeker, and Will firmly ignored the shocked murmurs from the presence in the back of his processors. The anger and annoyance was still there but muted for the time being, a bit of the energy gone through the fight and the rage that had followed, and he steeled himself before he raised his head slightly and met Ironhide's optics above a still-charged cannon. Ratchet was watching at his side but not moving, Sideswipe was watching with his swords still out but making no move to strike just yet, and Will's attention was on nothing but Ironhide as the cannon remained where it was, one silent command away from turning Will's spark casing into molten bits of metal.

No sudden movements, even the Seeker understood that one, and a moment later Will moved, slowly and with his optics never once leaving Ironhide's as he crossed his arms over his chest to keep any potential weapons aimed far away from his brother in arms. Emotions of _unarmed-surrender-submission_ echoed through his bond with the mech and a moment later he was kneeling and ignored the indignant screech of the Seeker in his mind-

- _We were challenged, this was __**right-**_

- and focused on being as little of a threat as he possibly could with his current body, and Ironhide's gaze rested on him for long seconds before the hum of the cannon faded and the weapon was lowered fractions of an inch to aim somewhere other than straight at Will's spark.

There was the distant sound of a familiar Peterbilt approaching, of tense silence around him and the whisper of metal against metal as Ironhide shifted to glance at Ratchet, and Will knew damn well what he was talking with the other mech about. Ratchet's optics felt heavy on him, made the Seeker shift uneasily in the back of his mind at memories of very hands-on methods, and Will stayed completely still, not sure what would be right to do and what would be wrong, utterly lost about the whole situation as the silence stretched on-

- and finally Ironhide lowered the cannon completely at an unspoken cue from Ratchet and the tension in Will's frame released just enough to make the tip of his wings shudder instinctively.

_Thank you,_ he said silently and suppressed another shudder as entirely-too-accurate memory processors replayed those endless seconds for him over and over again, and he couldn't quite stop the tired curse that followed, more a sigh than an actual word. _Frag._

And through their bond, he felt Ironhide's silent agreement.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found Ratchet in Optimus Prime's office, arms crossed in a very human gesture of defiance and with half a processor consistently on his bond with Ironhide as the darker mech kept their Seeker under observation well away from everyone else.

"Instability and lack of self-control had nothing to do with it," Ratchet said and the hardness of his voice was a testament to the mental stress he was under. "That _is_ normal behaviour for an interface-deprived Seeker! Blame me if you must, I was the one too caught up in how well-behaved he was for the breed that I failed to take this situation into account, but neither Lennox nor the Seeker can reasonably be blamed for what happened."

"Sideswipe has expressed his doubts about their loyalties," Prime said, quiet but firm, reminding his CMO of his position in a situation that rank technically didn't even cover, and he gave no hint to his own view of the matter. "As did Major Lennox himself, before he reached his agreement with the Seeker spark. You were there, Ratchet. You know their behaviour carried more than a few reminders of Decepticon mannerisms."

"Because they are a _Seeker,_" Ratchet stressed again and his attention was split between too many different things to keep the urgency entirely out of his voice. "Most Seekers are Decepticons for a _reason_. He has been well-behaved for their breed until the session today but it doesn't change the fact that he is a Seeker, with Seeker programming in a Seeker body. If he was truly a Decepticon in disguise, he would not have spared Sideswipe, nor would he have surrendered to Ironhide. You have experience with the breed, Optimus, you told me as much. Did you have any experience with the breed when they were not actively courting you?" He was getting too personal, going too far, but right now Ratchet didn't care and he continued before his commander could say anything. "Most Seekers tolerate lowly ground-pounders only for as long as we are attractive to them. Even Autobot Seekers were arrogant, elitist, and self-centered. Why would this one be any different? The fact remains that we have very little detailed knowledge of Seekers as a breed. Before the War, by far the most of Seekers had mates or interface partners. The side effects of prolonged exposure to that energy build-up was never a consideration, and the few of them that had that sort of problem were generally unusual types that preferred to avoid company of any sort. I have examined one – _one_ – Seeker with issues like that in my entire career, Optimus. One Seeker with a damaged wing, whose interface-deprivation was accepted as nothing more than an annoyance by it. I have my theories about Starscream as well but no way to confirm it, obviously. That out there is an Autobot Seeker. A bad-tempered one, but an Autobot nonetheless. He surrendered. He would have let Ironhide fire on him at point-blank. That it _not a Decepticon._"

Long silence as Ratchet just waited, knowing he had probably gone too far and too stressed to really care, and then Optimus sighed. "What happened out there?"

"Seeker instincts," Ratchet replied. "He is bad-tempered from the effects of that excess energy on his systems. I didn't consider how affected he would be. He had managed well until then but in retrospect..." A shrug, accepting what couldn't be changed. "The only beings he has been around much have been beings he considered a bonded or a potential mate. Programming would ensure that he put on his best behaviour around us. Sideswipe is not a potential mate. He is a ground-pounder – a moderately attractive one of the sort to a Seeker, but a ground-pounder nonetheless – and when he attacked them during their training lesson, the Seeker saw it as a direct challenge. With no programming to rein it in and with the additional problem of their short temper... it did what its instincts told it to. It dealt with the threat."

Silence once more as his Prime considered that and then Optimus sighed again.

"What can be done?"

And wasn't that the question? A quick brush against his bond with Ironhide was enough to confirm that the situation was still under control in that end and thus not likely to provide a convenient distraction for Ratchet, and a moment later the medic straightened slightly. Bad news never got any better because you tried to hide it, he had learned that long before the War had ever started.

"Realistically? Nothing." Too tired to soften the harshness of the words, willing his leader to understand that it was as hard to say as it was to hear, that it wasn't a word spoken lightly, and he continued a moment later. "I have done what I can, Optimus. This is not the Seeker taking control again. This is at the foundation of his core programming, built into his very body, and I can't touch that. _Won't_ touch that. The programming is there for a reason and changing one wrong line of code can be enough to offline a mech. There were scientists who experimented with that when the War began and... research subjects were easier to come by. I may have done questionable things in the line of duty but that was never one of them." He shuttered his optics and some of the cold anger drained from his frame as he repeated his verdict. "I have done what I can, Optimus. I am not Primus. It is not my place."

Silence. Ratchet didn't break it but took the chance to brush against the bond with Ironhide again to keep tabs on his short-tempered patient and was rewarded with an amused feeling of reassurance and calm that belied the tension he could feel in flickers just beneath the surface. Awaiting their Prime's decision with as much apprehension as Ratchet himself, undoubtedly, and then his attention was back on his leader as the mech spoke.

"You told me once you would favour the human." There was no accusation in the words, just the need to get the full picture, and Ratchet nodded and settled for honesty, however little he might want to voice it.

"I would but I can't. Not anymore, not without killing both of them in the process. My initial assessment was wrong. Neither of them are strong enough to manage without the other. In theory I could remove the Seeker part but I won't. If they had been completely separate entities and strong enough to survive on their own... yes. Major Lennox would have lost the Seeker instincts that make him such a skilled flier but he could have survived and adapted. Never be as skilled as before but he would not be grounded. He would learn to fly again given time and practice. But not now. To remove one part would cripple the other and lead to their deactivation. Not immediately, perhaps not for years, but they would not be strong enough to survive without the other part there." Intakes vented softly, resignedly. "Would I deactivate the Seeker part if it could save the human? Yes, if that was necessary and agreed to by the Major. Would I do it when neither can be saved? No. There is a fine line between medical decisions made in the heat of battle and a deliberate offlining, and I will not cross that."

"You like them." Not a question, that, and a fair observation as well, and one that Ratchet didn't argue.

"As a general rule, they are arrogant and disdainful of ground-bound mechs, they have little self-control, they command by fear rather than respect, and there are good reasons why by far the most of them are proud Decepticons." Optics shuttered in a very human gesture of tiredness, and while he understood the conversation was necessary, he wanted to be with his patient because mostly-bonded or not, Ironhide was not a medic and never would be. "But yes, Optimus. I do like them. They are brutal enemies now but they were not always so. They are arrogant but they are honest about what they are and most Seekers are incapable of truly lying about their emotions for anyone. I appreciated the honesty and level of emotion they showed. It was a refreshing change from politics."

Long silence again and this time it was Ratchet who broke it as he forced himself to return to the one question that mattered the most, faction loyalties be fragged. "I can do nothing about that core programming. Interfacing to disperse the effects of that excess energy will make them less temperamental and more controlled but the programming will still be there and Major Lennox is still trying to accept that idea." There was a biting thought lingering in the back of his processors – _but why care about that; I hear consent is optional among Decepticons, anyway – _but he forced it down before it could make itself to the forefront of his mind. It was an unfair observation. Optimus Prime was required to consider all options, it was just duty as a leader, and Ratchet was well aware that he was being...

… Unreasonable. Temperamental. Annoyed, proud, _arrogant-_

And the pieces clicked into place.

_Primus._

"Ratchet?"

Something must have shown in his expression because Optimus Prime frowned and something in the back of Ratchet's processors did a surprisingly realistic impression of an Earth-deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming Decepticon alt-mode, and he focused on his spark even as he realised what he would find.

Soft, tentative, almost too weak to notice at all but he was a medic and picking up on small details could mean the difference between repairs and offlining, and he felt his uncharacteristic annoyance-tiredness-worry intensify as he focused on what was clearly the beginnings of a bond.

He very carefully did not focus any further on it to avoid making it react in any way, and then he straightened and returned his attention to his Prime. "Permission to leave, sir? There is a medical issue involving our Seeker that needs my attention. It is not an emergency, but-"

"Permission granted," Optimus Prime agreed before he had the chance to finish. "There is no need to explain, old friend. We will talk later. Go."

Ratchet nodded once and was gone, out of the office and back in the hangar itself in moment and transformed an instant later, concrete flying by under his alt-mode as he took off, and he remembered all too clearly his warning to Ironhide.

_There are two personalities in there,_ his mind mocked as it threw his own words back at him_. Make very, very sure the human side is interested, too._

And Ratchet could do nothing but snarl with Seeker-like annoyance at the memory of the words and desperately hope he could live up to them as well.


	14. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful beta/best beloved/plot wall for listening to my complaining about this chapter. Without you, I'd still be whining to no one in particular :D

Also, thank you to my wonderful readers for sticking with this. You are all fantastic!

* * *

_You could just take off._

The thought popped up every few minutes like clockwork, nagging at the corners of his processors and making it increasingly difficult to stay still and not give in to the constant temptation of pacing restlessly. The sky was there, endless and inviting, and there was nothing but worthless, annoying ground-pounders on the base; pathetic, wingless creatures that didn't understand their place in the universe, mates who had yet to learn to worship him the way a Seeker _should_ be-

- And Will forced that train of thought aside, unnerved by the strength of the emotions he got from the Seeker. His short temper was something he had gotten used to by necessity but the arrogance and anger had come out in full force, too, and dealing with that was a lot harder. Seekers had egos, Seekers had pride, and the longer he listened to that part of his processors, the more he understood why Megatron had them all. No normal Seeker would put up with humans or Autobots for long. Not when they weren't allowed to prove their superiority and dominance.

_You could just take off._

It was still cloudy outside, still grey and warm and humid, and the view from the hangar door where he waited was less than inspiring. Not that he really noticed it much as it was. The clouds were there but they were nothing more than an annoyance to his sensors, tiny drops of Pit-spawned water between him and the endless reaches of sky, and he got the sudden, mad urge to shoot at the slagging worthless _scrap_ this planet called _weather_-

- And then the urge was gone again, pushed aside by the human part of him before it could turn into anything more than just a stray thought.

In any other case, Will might have been amused by the very alien worldview of someone from a planet with little to no water and who saw it as nothing more than an inconvenience at best and a potentially fatal danger at worst. It wasn't any other case, though. It was his own processors, his own mind, and the Seeker's annoyance with it all only intensified the desire to simply take off and never, ever land again, high above clouds and rain and oceans and sand and-

_You could just take off._

He squished the thought again and focused on Ironhide's presence somewhere behind him. He had made a point of carefully shielding that bond with the mech – not because Ironhide had used it against him once to take down the Seeker, but because it was all he currently could do to keep his sort-of, tentative, would-be bond-mate safe... or whatever the heck it was going to turn out to be, because however confusing human relationships could be sometimes, they had _nothing_ on Cybertronians – and whatever the hell was going on with him, he wasn't going to take Ironhide down with him. He didn't imagine that having to shoot someone you had a bond with, however new and weak it might be, would be something that was nice for any sort of mech, much less having to do it while the bond was actually open-

- And he was rambling and he knew it, and he suppressed a sigh and kept the bond firmly shielded. Like Pit he was going to take Ironhide down with him just because he'd fragged up, and there was no reason to make it worse for either of them by giving the mech the added effects of the full, nasty range of emotions from the Seeker through that bond.

He heard the sound of metal against metal somewhere behind him as Ironhide moved and a few moments later the mech appeared at his side, staring at the grey sky and the runways and the ocean and probably not really seeing any of it. A glance at the darker mech, then back to staring into the distance as he managed to force aside the Seeker for long enough to keep his voice even and normal and keep the worst of their united issues from showing.

"Thank you."

For not firing, for being willing to but not doing it, for trusting him, for not keeping that cannon aimed at him even now... he didn't say it but he suspected that Ironhide knew, anyway, and that suspicion was confirmed in the long silence and the slight nod he got in response. He almost lowered his shields a little to see if he could feel anything from Ironhide but he dismissed the idea as soon it appeared in his processors. He didn't doubt that his sort-of-maybe bond-mate had plenty to deal with already and getting an accidental dose of Will's emotions for added fun when his control of the bond slipped was not something Ironhide needed.

The sky was hidden behind clouds, his own restlessness and nagging anger growing increasingly urgent with every passing second, with every endless minute that dragged on as he could do nothing but wait and trust in Ratchet and their Prime, and dull grey wings shuddered slightly.

"I could just take off." He wasn't aware that he had spoken out loud until he saw Ironhide shift in the corner of his optic, and that ever-present feeling of dread in his fuel tanks intensified with the realisation.

_Slag._

They had enough to deal with, enough stupid frag-ups to handle, and he was supposed to be a trained soldier and slagging well able to show just a minimum of self-control, and his hands flexed restlessly as he tried to figure out a way to do damage control.

Lucky for him, he didn't have to.

"But you won't," Ironhide said and there was no question at all in his voice. "That's the Seeker talking, Lennox. Starscream's a cowardly glitch but he's not exactly unusual for the breed. It comes with the ego. Either they turn and run the moment they're outnumbered or they're so sure they're above the rest of us that they stay and fight no matter what. The first option are the survivors. Corner them on the ground and they'll be off, comrades in arms be fragged. In the sky..." A soft snort. "You've seen them. They have those egos for a reason. Why fight in the dirt with the rest of us when they've got wings and missiles and they're too fast for us to get a proper target lock on them half the time?"

_Why play by the rules when you're on top of the food chain, _Will realised, translating the sudden surge of annoyance and arrogance and smug pride from the Seeker into something he could actually work with. _Seekers own the sky. They have frontliners for the rest._

And wasn't that just comforting to know, too. Another thing on the long list of issues he planned to bring up with Primus in painful, graphic details at the first possible chance he got. Which, on second thought, hopefully wouldn't be that soon, considering that Ironhide would have his aft if he got himself killed or had to turn that cannon on him.

"So you're telling me that if Prime's still willing to let me fight after this, dumping me in the middle of a battle is likely to end up with me pulling a Starscream at the first sign of trouble," Will said flatly and ignored the sudden, conspicuous silence from the Seeker and its vague feeling of disgust at ground-pounders who didn't understand their place in life.

"Maybe." Ironhide sounded thoughtful and Will wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. At least it meant the mech was giving the answer some serious thought, whatever said answer might end up being. "I doubt it, though. Be honest, Lennox. You pulled a weapon on a fellow Autobot and between the two of us, I'm guessing that bird-brain there in your processors intended to take the shot, too." Silence followed as Will didn't object and Ironhide continued a moment later. "What do you think the consequences are going to be?"

Good question. What would he have done in Prime's situation? He had been a leader himself but this was something else entirely. He'd had superiors and endless lists of rules and regulations to lean on if it had ever been needed. Optimus...

… _Should recognise the importance of a Seeker and put that waste of metal of a frontliner in his place before someone less merciful decides to do it for him_, that presence in his mind snarled, temper flaring and then forcibly pushed aside again by Will.

He sighed mentally and ignored the silent hiss from the Seeker before it curled up in the back of his mind and plotted bloody vengeance on the world around it as it nursed its wounded pride. The Seeker would have fired on Sideswipe, Will had realised that soon after it had recovered from its shock and let its anger out in full force. It would have torn the mech to pieces if given half the chance and there would have been no regret at all, and that scared Will more than anything. Autobot or not, it was a Seeker above anything else, with a Seeker's ego and instincts, and every one of said instincts in Will's processors told him that Sideswipe would have had it coming for daring to challenge him in the first place, training session or not.

The sound of intakes venting by his side reminded him that Ironhide was waiting for an answer, and Will pushed aside the anger and fury as much as he could to clear his mind. He was stalling and they both knew it.

What would he have done in Prime's place? Easy.

"Best case scenario? No weapons and grounded until sometime after the end of the world," Will said quietly and kept watching a depressingly grey sky that suddenly looked a lot more appealing than it had a moment before. "Worst case? Treason. In reality, probably some middle ground. Lock me in the brig and throw away the key until something can be done to fix this slag. We were both to blame. It wasn't just the Seeker, and even if it was... you can't really punish one without targeting the other, too."

"And still, you're here," Ironhide agreed in the same quiet voice. "You could take off but you're not going to. If you were, you'd have been off the moment I turned my cannon away from you. Yeah, the Seeker's there and it's telling you to get the frag out of here but if you're not listening now, I don't think battle is going to be a problem."

_Unless we have a run-in with Starscream, or Megatron, or any other 'Con the thing might be interested in,_ Will didn't correct because they had enough to deal with as it was and it wasn't a thought he wanted to linger on. He still had the memories of graphic fantasies in his processors and he really didn't want to get a rerun of them any time soon. Or ever.

"I'm a fragging schizophrenic nympho with the brains and common sense of a teenager," Will bit out. "Are you sure Primus isn't a Decepticon sympathizer? Because at this rate, I'll be more of a danger to you than the slagging 'Cons are."

The Seeker snarled in the back of his mind even as Ironhide snorted. "You're a Seeker. They've always had issues. You were brought back with blue optics and Autobot insignias, Lennox. You're one of us. Yeah, you're a bad-tempered pain in the aft and a danger to your surroundings, but so are Sideswipe and the twins most days. Nobody sane and stable got through the War in one piece. You're a Seeker now but it's still better than being dead."

Point. Even if Will had his doubts some mornings when the Seeker had been at its worst and today hadn't helped on it at all. He could deal with the temper and the general annoyance with the world but the violence and the near-constant, snarled insults in the back of his mind about worthless, wingless piles of scrap... the Seeker might be mentally young but that didn't make it any less dangerous than a proper one, and Ratchet's words about the effects of not interfacing rang in his mind. Unpleasant to be around, his aft. The thing was nothing short of a danger to its surroundings and if that was what Megatron was dealing with in keeping Starscream around, Big and Ugly had a lot bigger balls than Will had given him credit for.

_You could just take off._

That voice in the back of his mind again and this time Will snapped back.

_We'd be leaving the others behind. Is that what you want?_ Sarah, Ironhide, Ratchet... he didn't need to add the names as flickers of images from the Seeker told him that it knew perfectly well what he was talking about and a bit of the restless, angry annoyance was replaced by uncertainty.

_If we take off now, they're going to shoot us out of the sky and lock us up the first time we show up again_, he continued, mingling his own images of windowless cells and pain and claustrophobia to the images from his winged partner.

He knew what buttons to hit and it obviously worked as his wings shuddered instinctively and the walls started to close in until the Seeker got its response back under control – and if he had been less focused on trying to avert a disaster in the making, he would have been surprised at the fact that it was actually learning and capable of more than just going with whatever emotion took it.

The anger faded for a moment, was gone and replaced by images of Ironhide; strong and relentless and dominant; of the soft feeling of warmth in his hand when Sarah had rested there and the alien feeling of organic life, and the Seeker went through a rapid series of emotions – _guilt-grief-loss-possessiveness-pride-anger_ – and then it settled for one with a fierceness that made every mental alarm in Will's mind go off.

_**Mine.**_

_Not if you leave. _Like frag Ironhide would pack up and leave the Prime he had served since before the War because of one Seeker, however attached he might be to it, and there was no way he was going to tear Sarah away from everything she had ever known because he'd had to go play hero and ended up more than a bit mental.

Anger coursed through his processors from the Seeker; disgust and distrust and decisiveness and beneath it all, a bone-deep song of battle and rage and sheer lust for violence that made Will's mind reel, and the images that followed were a chaotic mess of torn armour and bleeding Energon and the lust of victory, blue and red yielding under claws, and-

_Then we will claim them. If he is too weak to rein in his frontliners, he does not deserve to rule. Worthless ground-pounder,_ that familiar voice snarled even as Will's mind flinched away. _We are a Seeker. We will claim what is ours and we will rule if he is too weak to keep what is his._

_He is a Prime,_ Will bit back_._

A Prime, a friend, a commanding officer, and what the Seeker was suggesting was way past acceptable programming quirks and well into the realm of flat-out treason and Will clenched his hands and tried to force the images aside, familiar blue and red and bleeding Energon, Megatron kneeling and Starscream at his side, and-

_He is weak. They are all weak. We will claim and we will rule and we will **end** this war that the wingless bits of scrap are too weak to finish._

Anger-fury-rage, red-hot and burning and all-consuming as it made its way through his mind, and Will did the only thing he could do.

"'Hide..." Low, desperate, barely reined-in panic behind it, and then the feeling of something calming against their bond, chasing away the worst of that initial, instinctive desperation as rage fought to take over and his hands flexed subconsciously, a silent threat of barely-contained violence.

_Help._

"Ratchet is on his way," the darker mech responded quietly, firmly, and maybe it was general information, maybe Ironhide had summoned him, but whatever the case, all Will could do was nod mutely and push against the overwhelming desire to tear through the skies, prove his dominance, and claim his mates for all to see.

* * *

Ratchet knew something was wrong before he ever set foot in the hangar. A wordless demand to get his aft there faster than his current speed, that uncharacteristic annoyance from the would-be bond tainted by faint panic that he had no doubt came from the human, and even the less-than-a-minute it took him to get there was too long for him.

That was a Seeker in there – a short-tempered, angry, armed Seeker – and William Lennox had never been the type to panic about anything, and that was all Ratchet needed to know that something had gone very, very wrong.

He took a brief look around as he transformed just outside the hangar – Will, Ironhide, hangar, no one else around – and then took in the body language of his patient, and that brief look was all it took to make his decision.

_Find something to do_, he told Ironhide over their bond._ Now._

His voice left no room for arguments and while Ratchet had no doubts that the weapon specialist was unhappy with the order to say the least, he only paused for a moment before he nodded sharply and stalked off in the direction of the training grounds, the hum of a charging cannon leaving no doubt about what he intended to do once he got there.

One problem handled, Ratchet took a look at the second one. Clawed fingers, raised wings, blazing optics, and he took a moment to consider his approach before he decided on one.

"_Lennox._" A sharp order more than anything – because slag it, Ratchet hadn't been made CMO because he had a pretty aft – and the way the Seeker startled slightly and narrowed its optics in obvious annoyance didn't improve Ratchet's mood at all.

This time he didn't even try to pretend to be harmless. His EMP generator might have been made for medical purposes but at short range it could still stun a mech, and the Seeker didn't even have time to defend itself before it was on the ground as its body gave out, metal hitting concrete with a hard sound.

One, two steps and he was next to it, kneeling and grabbing one wing-joint hard, and he was rewarded by the slight widening of optics as the Seeker half, at least, understood the seriousness of the threat.

"Would you like to tell me what that was about, Lennox?" Still sharp, still proving his dominance, and the figure under his hand shuddered slightly as optics flickered and the glow returned to a more normal level.

"Try treason," Will whispered harshly – and there was no doubt at all in Ratchet that this was the human in charge for the moment – and then optics shuttered and the tension in his frame eased as the human stopped fighting. "Should have let him take the shot."

Treason – against them, against the humans, against Ironhide or their Prime, Ratchet had no way to know for sure. The would-be bond was still there, temptingly close and so easy to reach out and strengthen, every answer he wanted easily within reach without having to deal with the stubbornness of the Seeker and the human both, and Ratchet gave a still Seeker-like mental snarl at the thought to chase it away.

"More details than that would make my task easier," he said instead, and while his voice wasn't as hard as Will's had been, the hand on the wing didn't relent.

"Treason," Will repeated, less harshly and more tired this time, and the still-weak body under Ratchet's hand gave up its last bit of resistance against his grip as Will yielded. "It's pissed at Sideswipe for challenging it, it's pissed at all of you for not letting it get even with him, and it's pissed at Prime for not teaching Sides respect for it in the first place. You and Hide have both put that thing in its place before. It respects you. Optimus..."

_Optimus hasn't,_ Ratchet finished the sentence and felt an uncomfortably familiar feeling of dread settle in his processors, images of Starscream against Megatron, and he forced aside those thoughts before they could get any more detailed.

Core programming, not the kind that made up the Seeker's personality, and even if he could tear out that Seeker influence completely, that core programming would still be there, still demand its rightful place and respect, still demand to be worshipped and treated like its pride demanded. That pride and anger was core programming. Mating instincts could be fought. That ego couldn't.

"You can't get rid of it, can you?" Will asked quietly. "You'd already have torn that thing a new one if you thought it would've helped."

"It is core programming," Ratchet agreed and settled for honesty. "Even if I banished that Seeker to the deepest, darkest parts of your processors, it would still appear when its pride was threatened. It would not be able to help it."

Silence. A whisper of fear through that weak, weak bond, optics darkening for a moment, and then Will shuddered.

"So I'm turning into Starscream and there's nothing you can do about it? All this because I didn't..." he trailed off and didn't even seem willing to say the word for the moment, so Ratchet did it for him.

"Interface? No," he responded quietly. "Your temper is a result of that and it makes your... less charming lines of codes more obvious but it would have been there, anyway. Starscream is a unique case. I don't think his programming ever worked quite as it should. You are a Seeker, Will. For what it is worth, this is not uncommon in your build. Seekers respect strength. Sometimes, they simply have to be reminded that mere ground-pounders can be something to be respected, too."

Will's mind obviously knew where that line of reasoning was going because he snorted softly a moment later – tired, weary, but not entirely ready to give up completely. "I don't think Optimus is going to like that much."

"A good thing, then, that I am not asking him to like it," Ratchet said quietly. "It has been too long since he has last commanded Seekers. He's gotten out of practice."

"So beat the slag out of the Seeker, then," Will concluded and sighed. "Frag it. 'Hide is bad enough as it is."

"A training lesson" Ratchet corrected and was satisfied to notice not just the bit of humour in Will's words but the distinct lack of panic coming from that weak bond as well.

"Potato, potahto," Will muttered and Ratchet made a point of snorting as he turned his attention to his comm link to contact his Prime. The bond could wait. They had more important things to handle first.


	15. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I have no author's notes. Uh. Have a Seeker with a pancake on its head?

Sahrai (not signed in, so I can't respond directly): Because FFNet doesn't have a genre for 'tongue-in-cheek half-serious crack-fic' *cough* It has its darker chapters and it has its more light-hearted ones but it started out as mild tongue-in-cheek snarkiness due to Will's point of view and that's how it's staying (it's a Seeker. Yes, yes, airborne master of the sky. Will is still not impressed). It may walk the path of humour with the grace and confidence of a drunken hippopotamus but the snark will still be there. Rest assured, there will be no non-con coming up... which is part of why it's already at 50k words and counting ;) (C'mon. Have a little faith in the guy! And if not him, then the rest of the 'Bots, at least)

* * *

Ironhide had long since learned to control his temper. As much as said temper could be an advantage in the heat of battle, it could be just as dangerous when allowed to run uncontrolled. Today, however, was definitely not one of his better days. Quite rightfully, he blamed the bond with his human-turned-Seeker partner for most of it, too, however much he might try to shield it, and the tried and true Ironhide solution to those days usually resulted in rather massive amounts of destruction.

On Diego Garcia, that translated to shooting the ever-loving slag out of every piece of scrap on the Autobot scale shooting range that was big enough to hit, and Ironhide had been prepared to do just that when he had arrived and found that he was not the only one with that idea.

Both cannons already charging, Ironhide stared at Robert Epps. The human arched an eyebrow and stared right back and silently dared the mech to say a thing about it.

"The targets," Ironhide finally said over his comm link, tapping into the receiver in Epps' ear protection, "are bigger than you are. I was under the impression that NEST had shooting ranges more suitable for your size."

Epps snorted and returned his attention to said targets, bringing his gun back up. "And if I go there, I'm just gonna get another slag-pile of paperwork." Two shots, fired with more aggression than the man usually displayed, and then he lowered the weapon again and looked back at Ironhide. "You're in a piss-ass mood today."

An exaggeration. Mostly. Ironhide merely snorted in return and brought up his own weapons, and the world exploded in the deafening roar and blinding light of twin cannon blasts striking true, target after target obliterated as aggression turned into anger turned into energy, and when he lowered the cannons again a full minute later, it was to the sight of several new craters in the ground and the last, pathetic bits of half-melted metallic rubble from his last target falling from the sky.

Epps, he noticed, had stopped shooting his own inferior Earth-based weapon and put it aside in favour of watching the show instead.

Long seconds passed and the human looked at him again; fleeting, tired worry in his features that Ironhide had become all too familiar with over the course of their few years on this new planet.

"That bad?" Epps commented and for a moment Ironhide was silent, not actually sure what to say. He wasn't even sure himself. Will had asked for help and Ratchet had arrived and proceeded to kick Ironhide out. That wouldn't have been a good sign in any situation, much less one dealing with something as volatile as a Seeker. On the other hand, Ratchet hadn't contacted him again in the four minutes and twenty-two seconds that his processors informed him had passed since he had left. That, perhaps, meant that the medic had the situation firmly under control. At least, he liked to think that the mech would have contacted him if things had gone from bad to worse.

"I am not a medic," Ironhide finally settled for.

This time it was Epps' turn to snort as he took off the heavy ear protection. "That wasn't what I asked. Frag it, Ironhide. He's my friend and no one's willing to tell me _slag._ You scared the crap out of my people this morning and I heard some interesting stories from ground control about something big, winged, and fugly pointing a Gatling gun at Sideswipe not even half an hour ago. You gonna tell me what the frag's going on or do I have to start jumping to conclusions? 'Cause let me tell you, I'm Air Force, and we're fragging _good_ at jumping."

Silence. Some days, Ironhide really missed the time when their small allies had actually been intimidated enough to simply agree with whatever they were told, and then realised a moment later that it had never been the case in the first place for this particular one of the breed. The Sector Seven humans had feared them for the most part. The new recruits, however well-prepared they might think themselves, took months to stop being edgy around them or jump at the sound of Ironhide's cannons. The small group of survivors from Qatar and Mission City, however...

Decision made, Ironhide snorted. "Do so, and I will inform Ratchet of your failure to care for your health and that you will need to be kept under surveillance in the interest of your future well-being."

Epps did seem to falter at that but only for a moment before he frowned, a determined look on his face. "I see your medic and raise you a radio. In fact, why don't we call him right now and I can ask him instead?" He picked up said small radio from a pocket and dangled it in front of Ironhide. "I'm sure he'll be a lot more cooperative if I promise to sic the whole fragging lot of NEST on your ass to hunt you down as a training exercise next time you go AWOL from a medical exam."

And yes, Ironhide also missed the days when he could intimidate someone with his cannons and not get chewed out by Optimus Prime in the process, and while the human had realistically no way of knowing about the current situation for sure, Ironhide still suspected that the man had chosen that course of action for a reason.

"He's there, ain't he? He's with Ratchet," Epps continued and confirmed Ironhide's suspicion, radio still in hand. "I'm not stupid, man. You're pissy and Will and Ratchet ain't here, so I'm guessing you got kicked out. What do you say?"

Silence again, and this time Ironhide's processors took long seconds to react as they wondered just how to handle the situation. "Are you attempting to play 'chicken' with me, human?"

"Slag 'attempting'," Epps snorted. "I'd say I'm doing pretty damn well. Answers or medic. Which one's it gonna be? I've got paperwork to do and I've been waiting way too long already for one of you to show up here to get some answers from as it is."

And lack of intimidation or not, sometimes Ironhide was reminded, too, why he put up with those allies in the first place. They were small and fragile and with pathetically weak weapons but they had the bearings and reckless insanity to pull off the plans that anyone even moderately normal would have put aside as impossible... and that, perhaps, while not something to be encouraged overly much, was still an admirably trait in them.

"He is... less than stable," Ironhide finally said and judging by the small nod he received in return, it only confirmed what Epps had already guessed to some extent. "He asked for Ratchet's assistance. He did not offer any details."

No details, true, but even the fact that he'd asked for their medic spoke volumes to Ironhide and the way he'd asked wasn't exactly comforting, either. Ironhide had known very few warriors who were willing to ask for a medic for anything less than a dire emergency and Lennox had never been one of them.

"So it's serious," Epps guessed and returned the radio to its designated pocket again. He watched Ironhide for several seconds, looking for something that the mech wasn't even sure of, and then the human sighed. "People keep saying 'Seeker' to me like it's supposed to explain everything but it doesn't. I'm human, Ironhide. I don't have a slagging clue about this. If you can't tell me as the boss of NEST, then tell me as someone who's supposed to watch his back in the field. He'd have done the same for me."

Translated, Ironhide knew, the human wouldn't stop asking. He would keep up his enquiries until someone caved or was sufficiently annoyed to give him what he wanted, and Ironhide understood. He might not appreciate having those tactics used on himself but he understood. In a different situation, he would have done the same for the people he called friends.

Optimus had only given orders about how to handle those humans on Diego Garcia that did not find themselves in regular contact with Cybertronians – Lennox' NEST team, after all, knew what had happened, as did his mate and the Witwicky kid – and there was only so long they could keep the realities of the situation hidden. Out of all the humans, Epps was one of the ones who would have the most contact with their new Seeker, in the event that Lennox ever turned out permanently stable enough to take that risk.

It would perhaps be better for all involved if the human in question had been given the time to come to terms with the situation, then, too.

"This information will go no further than you," Ironhide said flatly.

The words were a statement more than anything but Epps nodded, anyway, and offered a frown in return that looked more than a bit angry at the fact that he would even imply that it was necessary to say as much.

"I can keep a secret," he responded just as flatly, daring Ironhide to say anything at all to that. The mech, however, simply nodded in return and powered down his massive cannons completely before he gestured for the human to make himself comfortable on a nearby chunk of concrete.

"Seekers are fundamentally different from any other build of Cybertronian," he began, and under the grey skies of Diego Garcia, a human figure listened attentively as its mechanical counterpart explained.

* * *

Optimus, predictably, had been less than enthusiastic about the situation. Not that Will could blame him much. While Ironhide and Sideswipe struck him as the types to be downright cheerful about getting to beat the slag out of someone for training purposes, Optimus had never been that type. Oh, he was absolutely lethal in battle, Will had seen enough to know that without shadow of doubt, but he had never been the type to revel in violence in the way that Sideswipe seemed to, and much less when the target in question was a friend, too.

Optimus had not liked the thought at all, and Ratchet's silent conversation with him had made things only marginally better. Will wasn't sure what the medic had told him but he could imagine it was one of those conversations there was really no good way to handle. 'He's going schizo on us again and needs to have his processors beaten back into place', probably, if in more medically-correct terms... not that Will knew what those would be.

The Seeker had responded when Optimus had appeared in the hangar but nothing that the combined efforts of Will and Ratchet couldn't keep in check – medic and reluctant to fight or not, Ratchet had put the fear of Primus into the thing – and by the time the two mechs had finished their discussions, the effects of Ratchet's EMP generator had worn off enough for Will to be back on his feet again, absentmindedly moving one limb after another to test that everything was back to... if not normal, then as normal as it would ever get in his new body.

The Seeker watched Optimus Prime with unconcealed annoyance even as the human part focused on Ratchet as the mech spoke, and if that wasn't a recipe for insanity in the making, he didn't know what was.

"A training session like the ones you have been put through by Ironhide would be the safest option," Ratchet explained. "I am aware that Optimus has an advantage with his blades, so unarmed combat would be-"

_Weak,_ the Seeker snarled from where it waited impatiently in the back of his processors and sharpened its mental claws, a predator eyeing a potential challenger for its domain.

Ratchet arched what would have passed for an eyebrow and only then did Will realise he had spoken the word out loud. "Weak," he repeated with a sigh and tried to translate alien emotions into something that made sense as he looked at Optimus instead. "It says that unarmed combat would be weak. Sorry, sir, but you would be holding back."

Optimus nodded slowly. "It would not accept the outcome." A glance at the medic, exchanging more silent words, and then he nodded. "Close quarters combat, then, as humans would call it. Would it use its firearms?"

A quick successions of emotions and images, lingering on the brief fight against Sideswipe, and Will waited another moment to be completely sure the thing wouldn't argue before he raised his head slightly. "Not in a fight like this, sir. War would be different. This is..."

About ego, about pride, about showing off, and there wasn't much of that in just gunning someone down. Up close and personal took a lot more skill to handle – skills that Will knew without doubt that neither he nor the Seeker actually had, but if the bird-brain was too stupid to understand that, then Will would fragging _cheerfully_ put up with an aft-kicking if it managed to put the damn thing back in its place again.

"Close combat," Ratchet agreed when Will didn't continue. "The training grounds would be suitable, then. He doesn't have close combat weapons but those hands are not without their use..." A glance at Will. "And neither are his wings."

_Weak,_ the Seeker sent again, dark annoyance following the word as Will felt its patience rapidly slip again, Ratchet nearby to rein it in or not. _This is not battle. This is groundling weakness. A Seeker would have fought. Pathetic waste of Energon._

Will didn't respond to that – because really, what _could_ he say that wasn't going to send the thing into another furious rant – and instead he looked at Ratchet again. "Ironhide should be there."

In case something went too far, in case he became dangerous, however unlikely that might be, and the Seeker added its smug agreement, images of claiming the dark mech in triumphant, bloodied victory flickering through their shared processors. Will didn't bother arguing, not if it meant getting Ironhide there without the Seeker bitching to high hell about it.

Ratchet nodded and Will didn't need to ask to know that the mech was speaking silently with Ironhide. A moment later he glanced back at Will, something in his expression that Will didn't quite recognise as he watched him carefully. "Ironhide is currently in the company of Robert Epps on the shooting range."

It took Will a second to realise why he should actually care, much less what Ratchet was asking, and when he did, he tensed before he could help it.

_Bobby._

Small, fragile, vulnerable, _human..._ but Ratchet was asking, wasn't he, or he would just have ordered Ironhide's aft back, company be fragged. Long seconds stretched out as Ratchet watched him, waiting for the answer, and Will's wings shifted slightly, silent tension in them before he could stop it.

Ratchet wouldn't have asked if he'd thought Will would be a danger to his human friend, and that meant that he honestly wanted Will's opinion on the matter, and that scared Will more than he cared to admit. On one hand it was a friend who had already seen him several times in his new body, however briefly; someone who was used to the weirdness of Diego Garcia and wouldn't run away screaming at the sight; someone human and normal and _familiar_. On the other hand, he was definitely not at his best and he was about to get the slag kicked out of him because the Seeker was too stupid to know what it was doing.

Ignoring the angry snarl from the Seeker at that particular thought, he turned his attention back to Ratchet. "Will it..." _Will it be a danger, will it mind, will it be a good idea, will-_

"Why don't you ask it?" Ratchet suggested, and if he had been annoyed at what Will had belatedly realised might be taken as implying he would deliberately put a human at risk, he didn't show it.

It was a nice, simple, reasonable idea, and with the Seeker's current mood, it was something Will really didn't want to to do, either. He didn't think he had much of a choice, though, and with a wordless thought, he focused on that alien presence in his processors and shifted through the images he got in response.

Jumbled, confused – anger at Optimus, annoyance at the time it all took, smugness at the thought of Ironhide watching, and digging deeper he found an echo of a bit of the same smugness joined by bemusement at the thought of the human. Small, weak, fragile, but not a danger, and Will slowly released the tension in his wings.

"It wouldn't mind," he finally said. Winning, the Seeker would have another member of the audience to admire it. Losing... wasn't a concept that even registered in its mind, and Will doubted anything short of a thorough defeat would help on that, either.

"And you?" Ratchet asked, still with that unreadable look, and Will raised his head slightly, defiantly.

"He's a friend. I'll have to deal with him sooner or later. So maybe I'm still so fragged up I'd make Starscream look sane but he's probably going to see that sooner or later, anyway. Might as well make it now."

Whatever Ratchet had been looking for, he apparently found it, because Will got a satisfied nod in return.

"Then it is settled. They will meet us on the training grounds. Optimus?"

The larger mech merely nodded a confirmation in that solemn, regal way that still impressed Will sometimes, and then they walked out of the hangar and into the overcast world of Diego Garcia.

If the Seeker had any doubts about the whole clusterfrag, Will realised, it hid them well.

* * *

If asked afterwards, Will Lennox would not have been able to say if it had been a horrible mistake or a really fragging good idea. A mix of both, probably, like most things he had found himself doing since he learned about the existence of giant, alien robots. His bad temper courtesy of one annoying as slag, interface-deprived Seeker didn't help at all, either, and maybe that was why he had gone along with said idea. Temporary insanity and all.

The walk to the training grounds had felt longer than it had any right to and the Seeker had been caught somewhere between anger at the time it took – Seekers, Will had quickly learned, weren't big believers in waiting for anything – and smug, proud satisfaction at the fight that was about to start.

Images flickered through his mind, lingering on one or two before they moved on with no say whatsoever from Will – torn plating, Optimus on his knees, Ironhide's hands on his wings in reverent worship and acknowledgement of his rightful place as a superior being, and Will pushed back as much as he could, adding a mental snort for good measure.

_You're delusional. You're going to get your aft slagged in fifteen seconds flat. Twenty if he's feeling nice._

He had expected to get annoyance in return but not the miffed feeling of the Seeker being insulted that came with it, memories of their first proper talk in recharge in Ratchet's infirmary following right on its tail. Annoyance, anger, hesitation, _agreement-_

_We agreed on a truce,_ the Seeker said, affronted._ I keep my word. _

_'Truce' didn't include helping you do your damn best to kill my commanding officer because you need to get laid,_ Will snapped back.

More images – that same torn plating and the impression that the wounds weren't as bad as they looked, dominance for the sake of peace, of protection, of prosperity instead of raw power – and Will shuddered imperceptibly as the Seeker turned its full siren song of _power-freedom-flight-control_ on him.

_He is weak. Decepticons kill weakness. We are not Decepticon. He is weak and we will claim what is ours and we will **end** this war. _

_You're going to get slagged,_ Will bit out and shook off the faint haze of agreement that had clouded his processors from the full force of the Seeker's attention. The training grounds came into view, a black metal figure waiting next to a much smaller human one as they approached, and he was quickly running out of time to argue with that other, unwanted part of his processors.

_Truce!_ the Seeker snarled, hard and demanding, and Will almost shuddered at the surge of emotions that followed and made the issue entirely too clear.

_Fine,_ he snarled right back._ You think it's going to make a damn bit of a difference if I help? Fine. You got it but you slagging well better accept the outcome when you get your aft kicked, then, because I'm not doing this every fragging week because you're too stupid to get the point._

He wasn't a Seeker, didn't know the first thing about mech-style combat beyond what Ironhide had managed to drill into his skull, but if that was what it would take to shut the damn thing up, then by Primus, he would slagging well do that.

The Seeker went utterly still for a moment and then he felt a wordless agreement before it surged to the forefront of his mind to take over as they approached their battle ground and Will mentally stepped back a bit to let it.

_I agree, human. My word as a Seeker._

Ironhide watched him, Epps watched him, Ratchet watched him, but Will didn't care, his attention focused on the Seeker as he forced himself to release the heavy shields he had tried to put up to stay in control. Hesitant and fumbling to begin with, the first time since that initial flight that he had really stopped trying to subconsciously block out the alien influence, and then a chain reaction as the tension that had held it all together suddenly snapped. One mental boulder after another crumbled as Optimus stopped and turned, solid walls falling apart to rocks, to rubble, to sand, and something surged to sweep aside what little dust finally remained.

The Gatling gun forcibly locked without any thought from Will at all, flight systems came online in a flurry of activity, and the deep vibrations of engines humming with barely restrained energy sang through his very body.

Ratchet watched them for a moment, nodded once, firmly, and then he stepped back-

- And a dozen things happened the instant later; the sound of Optimus' swords as they were unsheathed, the song of engines, metal against concrete as two mechs moved, the glow of optics and energy and clouded daylight against polished plating-

- And in the back of Will's processors, something stirred_._

Optimus moved, impossibly fast and fluid and lethal, but the Seeker was in the air a moment later, spun and turned even as it tried to strike and missed, and Will heard the song of blades slicing through air, heat and metal and the smell of the generator that powered it all as he barely evaded the weapon.

Faster than 'Bee, faster than Sideswipe, and there was no way in Pit that they could win and Will found he didn't even care. Energon sang in his body, the roar of his engines as even the speed of the Seeker in half-flight couldn't match a Prime, and the fight against Sideswipe had nothing on what they faced now. The Seeker had struggled against Ironhide's lessons, Will had struggled against the attack on Sideswipe, and for the first time they worked together-

_- like trine-mates **should**-_

- and the final bits of the puzzle _clicked_.

Human complimented Seeker complimented human, and searing pain flared through their processors as plating met plating and was dismissed the moment later, and even that sword that almost struck true and was barely deflected in time only made the Energon surge stronger and if he hadn't been so busy fighting to even remain standing, Will would have laughed.

This was battle, this was war, this was unfettered fury, and this was what he was _sparked_ for.

Deep gorges marked red and blue as claws struck hard and were returned with interests as even the Seeker was too slow to evade completely, but even the burn of searing Energon swords couldn't keep back the feeling of pure triumph.

Engines roared again, half-flight and half-combat as he was forced back into the defensive again, and the relentless barrage of attacks that followed was calculated and meticulous and impossible to evade. He retreated against his will, one hard strike after another tearing through his defences, and it was both a testament to Optimus' skill and how much they still had left to learn that neither Will nor the Seeker saw the blow that ended it.

One second they were on their feet, the next they were on the ground, head slamming into concrete to send their processors reeling, and with a flare of molten yellow and a shower of sparks one lethal sword drove into the ground not two feet from Will's head.

It was a statement even the Seeker couldn't have argued against and to Will's surprise, it didn't even try. Temporarily stunned systems came back online, sent painful messages from every sensor node on his wings and a list of damages that was impossibly long for a battle that had lasted less than thirty seconds, and the Seeker didn't even care about that.

"Holy slag," Will whispered and ran a hand across his still-ringing head.

Energon surged and optics flared in sheer pleasure, and this time Will couldn't hold back a laugh. Harsh, joyous, breathless as intakes worked overtime, and there was clear concern in Optimus' frown as he retracted his swords again.

"Major?"

The Seeker surged in his mind, brilliant and lethal and defiant as it echoed the thrill of it all, and Will didn't know if it was speaking or if he was and it didn't matter, not now, not anymore.

_Holy slag,_ he repeated and heard the Seeker echo the sentiment. _Let's-_

"- do that again."


	16. Chapter 14

**A/N:** A half chapter, half interlude before the holidays kick in and the plot starts up again ;) Happy wintery holiday of choice!

* * *

"Maybe," Epps finally said, "someone dropped him on his head as a kid."

They were waiting by the edge of the training grounds as Ratchet took a look at their resident boss and flyboy both, although it was the latter that needed it most. The whole day had been a roller-coaster of heart-attacks in the making and Epps' tried and true methods of dealing with that were guns and humour, and since he suspected that pulling a gun now would be about as smart as taking on Megatron with a paintball gun, he settled for the second option.

Ironhide shifted next to him – a bit uncomfortably, if Epps read him right, but at least the cannons weren't out, so that was a start. Then again, their boss had proven himself more than capable of hammering their new Seeker into the ground without a problem at all, so it wasn't like those cannons would have been needed, anyway. Their Prime didn't show off often and it was easy to forget just what the big guy was capable of in battle but this particular display wasn't one Epps was likely to forget about any time soon. The guy could take on Megatron one on one. One new Seeker didn't have a chance in hell and Optimus had proven that without a shadow of doubt.

"He is a Seeker now," the weapons specialist finally sighed in response to Epps' remark. "They are not the most stable of builds."

Which was a lame-ass excuse and Epps knew it and gave a snort to show just what he thought of it, too. "Like frag. You didn't know him before. He's never been right in the head, so it's not like spouting wings'll make that much of a difference. The slag with Blackout's proof enough of that. Maybe bird-brain likes to fight but I don't exactly think Will's raising high hell in there about it, either."

That laugher had been alien and static and downright _creepy –_ it was a 'Con build, and a laughing 'Con was a sure way to make any NEST team worth the name reach for their weapons – but that didn't mean half of it couldn't be the human having a blast of a time getting the crap beaten out of him by their boss, even if they'd lost the fight in less than half a minute. It was Lennox in there, after all, and while most Rangers in Epps' opinion were firmly in the range of 'pretty damn special in the head', Lennox really took the prize.

His radio made an insistent sound and at least Epps managed not to sigh as he picked it up. Paperwork, probably, or one of the million not-really-emergencies that NEST was so very capable of – and he had plans to whip them into shape about that sort of crap, but he also knew that Will had already tried as much and not really made much headway at all, which meant it would probably be an uphill battle the entire way.

He really didn't get paid enough to deal with that kind of slag.

"Epps." Still keeping an eye on the three mechs on the training grounds and one ear on Ironhide, and he gave it two weeks at the most before they could write him off as stark, raving mad from the job... or possibly suitably adjusted to his leadership position, knowing the clusterfuck that NEST sometimes was.

"Commander, this is ground control," a familiar voice replied – same guy Epps had already talked to once that morning, and while it was a bit unnerving sometimes just how much ground control kept an eye on, he was also learning to appreciate having some extra eyes to keep track of everything for him. Air control had the skies while ground control had Diego Garcia airport itself, but with the amount of runways and hangars the island had, that put a good chuck of the place directly in their domain. They could see a lot more up there than he ever could from ground level and had the experience to know when something didn't look right, and when dealing with giant, alien robots, that could make a whole fragging world of difference. "Is everything under control, sir?"

A long look at the mechs in question – and of course ground control would have noticed; those Energon swords lit up like a fragging Christmas tree – and then Epps shook his head. "Big Buddha and..." A pause as Epps realised he didn't actually know Will's new designation and then decided to play it safe, "... the Seeker got a little carried away with training. Doc's on it. It's under control."

"Copy that, sir. Thank you."

Returning the radio to its pocket, Epps watched the small group of mechs for a moment longer before he turned his head to look at Ironhide instead. "Ground control," he said, unnecessarily. "We'll have to introduce him to the rest of the humans here sooner or later. There's only so long we can tell 'em he's got scrambled processors from being frozen and locked away somewhere before rumours pick up. It doesn't exactly help he looks like Starscream. Blue optics and all the right insignias, sure, but the first thing anyone's gonna notice is the Seeker-thing and then they're gonna start jumping to conclusions. The longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be."

Ironhide's response was little more than a low rumble. "I am aware." And he probably was. He sounded annoyed in the same way he usually did when he was reminded of something unpleasant, at least. "It will be Ratchet's decision."

"You know he ain't that much worse than the twins," Epps said quietly. "They're a menace any way you look at it, and we learned to cope with them. As long as he keeps in mind he's big and we're small and squishy, we can cope. We adapt, Ironhide. It's humanity in a nutshell. You want him to stay human a little, then fragging well let him hang out with us, too. You're great company but you ain't human."

Which was true, too, and Ironhide didn't respond as they both kept watching the show on the runway. Ratchet did something to one wing that vaguely reminded Epps of popping a dislocated shoulder back into place and he winced in sympathy when the resulting snarl from Will was clear even at their distance. Ironhide had mentioned that the things were touchy about their wings and the body language Epps saw now only cemented that fact. The wings swept back the moment Ratchet let go-

_-don't touch that!-_

- And Epps' lips twitched slightly in almost-amusement. "Expressive, ain't he?"

Ironhide snorted. "They wear their emotions on their wings. They act first and think later. Whatever their first reaction is, they will usually show it. The 'Con slaggers have been at it for long enough to learn but they are still only passable at it. Pay attention to the wings and you will know what goes on in his processors. He has enough self-control to hide some of it but not when he forgets to pay attention."

Focusing on the wings this time, Epps could see his point. Ratchet moved on to something on Will's arm and the wings slowly swept forward again as the medic stopped paying attention to them. Optimus said something or another that Epps couldn't make out at that distance, and the wings perked a bit in what he assumed was interest. Autobots as a general rule didn't do body language to nearly the same extent that humans did but it was there if you knew what to look for. With Seekers, you obviously didn't have to look very hard.

"There's no way to hide him, is there?" Epps commented dryly as he realised something else. "You can pretend to be a truck. He turns into a plane and he's gonna to forget about realism the moment something shiny shows up, ain't he?"

"He is a Seeker," Ironhide replied just as dryly and Epps was starting to get the impression that it really was the catch-all explanation to everything Will-related now. "By definition, they were meant to be displayed. They were a powerful force on Cybertron and saw no reason to hide what they were. Why should it be any different on a planet populated by organic creatures they see as so far beneath their notice that you may as well not be sentient at all?"

Which made entirely too much sense when put that way and Epps resisted the urge to sigh. The mental list of things that needed handled was steadily growing longer, and the more time he spent around his former boss in Seeker-shape, the more clear the nightmare visions of future stacks of paperwork got. Ironhide and Sideswipe and the twins were bad enough when they got going. He really didn't look forward to seeing what sort of incidents a Seeker could cause when it really got started, and he knew his friend well enough to know that even without that Seeker-brain in there, he'd still have been a disaster looking for a place to happen. Will Lennox had been bad enough with Earth-based, human-sized weapons. Thirty feet tall and armed with a Gatling gun and missiles...

"I'm blaming any ulcer on you guys," Epps finally said. "You and Primus. Just sayin'."

Ironhide snorted but Epps knew enough of his body language to see the amusement in it. "If so, it will only be reasonable to leave you in Ratchet's capable hands if the need arises."

"His bedside manners suck. Try it and I'll stick a tracker on your ass before your next check-up."

"I could let you walk back, human," the weapon specialist rumbled.

"Half an hour more I can't do paperwork? Ain't much of a threat."

There was the low rumble of an engine but the dark mech didn't comment and Epps felt himself cheer up a little at the slice of almost-normal life in the middle of the chaos of everything else. Wouldn't do much good in the long run, probably, but for now it might help his patience last a little longer before he snapped at someone – god knew he had a list a mile long of people who needed reamed.

Silence fell once more as Ratchet grabbed one of Will's hands firmly to examine it and the wings swept back again in obvious annoyance... and for a long, absurd moment, Epps was reminded of nothing so much as a huffy pigeon. That mental image didn't quite compute with the thirty-foot metal creature he was staring at – although it would probably make their next run-in with Starscream marginally more entertaining – and he almost managed to turn his sudden laugh into a cough instead.

Almost. Ironhide gave him a questioning look, and Epps waved his hand dismissively. "'S nothing." Another glance at the Seeker and he took the chance to ask a question that had been pretty near top of the to-do list since the whole mess had kicked off. "What's his designation, anyway?"

The Cybertronians, 'Bots and 'Cons alike, tended to have some pretty damn creative names – fitting in most cases, but still pretty damn creative most of the time – and from what he knew about Seekers, they were about as determined to be special little snowflakes when it came to that as in any other area. Names like Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker didn't exactly inspire confidence in whatever name someone might have thought up for the most recent member of the pigeon-squad, so when Ironhide replied with a short series of Cybertronian sounds that were very alien and very, very incomprehensible, Epps just stared at him for a moment.

Ironhide had obviously noticed because he repeated the sounds a moment later, slower and clearer – not that it helped Epps' comprehension of it any. Although there was something about the sounds...

"Again," he said with a slight frown and this time he paid close attention when Ironhide complied. Alien sounds, sure, but not as alien as it could have been based on the times he had heard their large, mechanical allies speak Cybertronian among themselves, and with a bit of adaptation...

"Again." He definitely had Ironhide's curiosity as the mech complied again, and this time he nodded once, determined as the sounds faded. Not as alien as it could have been and hell, he had been around the Autobots for long enough to get at least a vague feel for the language and if that was how they wanted to play, he wasn't about to back down.

Epps looked at Ironhide as he repeated the sounds right back at him, slowly and carefully, duplicating what he could and adapting to a human voice what he couldn't, but he was too tired from everything that had happened to manage much more than a wry smile when Ironhide's optics shuttered in a very human display of brief surprise. "Now, what's the _English_ version of what you just said?"

Ironhide was silent for a long moment as he glanced at the being in question. "Cybertronians names are complicated. They carry more layers than our human-based designations do. An approximation of Major Lennox's would be in the range of '_dominant-strong-stubborn-unyielding'_."

It took less than a second for that description to click for Epps and not much longer to realise why Ironhide had given him the Cybertronian designation first.

"Will. His designation is _Will._" Ironhide merely nodded and Epps had no idea of how to react – relief that there was enough of his friend in there to keep the name, worry about how to handle it, and in the end he simply closed his eyes and resisted the urge to rub his temples at the beginnings of a headache. "People are gonna to ask questions. You know that. We can get away with saying he got stuck in ice and kept as a lab-rat in that hellhole but no fragging way we can get away with calling him 'Will' and not have people wonder what the hell's going on."

"It was his choice," Ironhide responded and whatever he might feel about that, he didn't show.

Silence fell again as they both returned to watching the show on the training grounds, some comment or another from Ratchet that made Optimus shift with a vaguely guilty expression. Probably trying to get out of a closer look at the claw-marks on his armour, going by their boss' usual reluctance when it came to medical attention, although with Ratchet around, it would be a lost cause.

Will shifted again, wings sweeping back and up in a grand gesture of what Epps suspected was smugness, and he felt something inside of him twist painfully. They couldn't call him 'Will', not without raising a whole lot of questions they didn't want to answer, and they couldn't take the name from him, not when it was the only thing human left about him. Rock and a hard place and Epps had long since stopped counting how many times he had wished he could go back and change things and stop it from ever happening in the first place. Before had been good, before had been comfortable, before had been a well-oiled 'Con-killing machine... now they had to get used to new dynamics, a new human commander, and a Seeker that was rapidly teaching Epps just why the things had such a reputation in the first place.

_Reputation. _Something about that word clicked and Epps looked back to Ironhide, some vague idea slowly taking shape. "Our team knows what happened and we're known for being a bit..."_ A bit strange on a good day and well into 'insane' on a bad one_, and Epps took a slow breath before he continued. "A bit off in the head already, even for a NEST team. We ain't known for being normal. In-team, 'Will' could work. If anyone else picks up on it, it could be explained with us being a bit off in the head and using it as a way to remember him." Another long pause as he tried to figure out how to put it into words right. "You said they've got ego. We call the 'Con fraggers by human designations but we _want_ to piss 'em off. Will's on our side. Could we get away with using that? Say the pigeon doesn't want a name in an inferior language like the human ones. Call him 'the Seeker' if they can't pronounce the Cybertronian one, and don't use an Earth-based designation at all. He gets to keep his name where it matters and we don't get to deal with a slagload of questions we can't answer. If someone wants a translation, tell 'em the same you told me – Cybertronian names got layers so if they want it right, they gotta go ask him themselves. I guarantee you nobody's gonna take you up on that offer."

And maybe it was a stupid idea but frag it, it was all he had to work with and if it wasn't because he got where Lennox was coming from, he would have chewed him out for keeping the name in the first place. As it was, he would settle for damage control and kick up security around the human-turned-Seeker's small human family and make a point of using that human name whenever he could.

"It would be a suitable solution," Ironhide agreed, and the smooth agreement made Epps suspect he was going over things the Autobots had already decided on. Not that it really mattered in this case. He would feel a bit annoyed at being left out of the loop but this was also Autobot business, not human, and he could deal with it, too.

On the training ground Ratchet made a sharp-sounding comment that Epps couldn't quite make out, and then the medic made some firm gestures in the general direction of the infirmary. Optimus and Will both looked like they wanted to argue for a second, and then common sense took over and they followed along without further complaints. It was probably for the better, too, Epps mused. He had seen enough wounded mechs to know some serious injuries when he saw them and going by appearances, Will could use some medical attention.

"Ratchet's gonna have his aft," Epps finally said as they watched the trio leave.

Ironhide snorted. "He challenged a Prime," he said, like that would explain everything, and Epps wasn't sure if it was a good sign that he had been around for long enough that it actually made sense. Too tired to really think about it, he settled for a sigh.

"And he wants a rematch." A pause, and then he shook his head. "Definitely dropped on his head as a kid."

Going by Ironhide's silence, it wasn't a theory he was going to get a lot of arguments against.


	17. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Happy New Year to all you wonderful readers! Thank you for hanging in there, even if the M-rating is slow in showing itself *cough* Also, since I don't think I've mentioned it here, but only in a few review responses – suggestions are always welcome! I don't bite unless someone bites me first ;)

* * *

Two days later and Ironhide had gone through a range of emotions he didn't even know he had anymore. From worried to relieved to annoyed to confused to suspicious and finally to frustrated as he decided to frag common sense and corner Ratchet in the infirmary for some answers. Of course, cornering Ratchet in the medic's own domain was much like an average unarmed organic trying to corner Megatron, but Ironhide was frustrated enough to be willing to work with that, too.

Predictably, Ratchet looked neither particularly impressed nor particularly cornered as he crossed his arms and levelled a look at Ironhide, and if Ironhide hadn't been so frustrated, he would have taken it as his cue to get his aft out of there. As it was, he didn't.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" Ratchet drawled. "Did you finally manage to scramble your processors for good or have you simply spent so much time here that your have forgotten where your own quarters are?"

Ironhide snorted but didn't rise to the bait – long-term Ratchet exposure did have some benefits, after all – and instead he crossed arms as well, mirroring the medic's stubborn look.

"You're the expert on those fraggers. What in the Pit is wrong with him?"

Ratchet paused and then the glow of his optics intensified for a moment in understanding and Ironhide wasn't at all comfortable with the sudden amusement in the medic's features, either.

"I assume you are referring to our resident Seeker?" It wasn't really a question but Ironhide nodded, anyway, and Ratchet continued. "And what would be the problem? He's been exceptionally well behaved since his... training session with Optimus. He has spent time with his human bonded, his temper is under control, he recharges almost sufficiently for his build again, and he has begun to spend time around his human former team-mates. I hardly see a problem in that."

Judging by Ratchet's amusement, that last part was a flat-out lie and he knew very well just what the problem was and intended to make Ironhide own up to it, anyway. Payback for something Ironhide may or may not have done to him at some point and long since forgotten about, or maybe just being his usual sadistic self, and Ironhide bit back a frustrated sound before he ended up providing any more amusement for the medic.

"He only shows up for training lessons with me," he stated flatly, and he could have sworn he felt Ratchet smirk over their bond before it was quickly shielded again.

"Why, that's wonderful, Ironhide," Ratchet responded with the artificial sweetness of those carbonated poison beverages the younger humans liked to ingest. "I'm pleased to hear that he keeps up those lessons. It really shows he is trying – no normal Seeker would have put up with that, you know. I'm pleased that you have chosen to share this breakthrough with me, truly, I am, but far be it from me to keep you occupied with minor things like this when I am certain you have much more important things to do."

This time, Ironhide couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice, a frustrated snarl making his feelings clear even before he answered. "Stop yanking my chain, medic. He _only_ shows up for those lessons. I see nothing of him outside of that. When I approach him, he takes off or find something else to do, and when I attempt to use that bond to get an answer out of him, he _shields_ it!"

There was a definite feeling of smugness over their bond at that and then the artificial sweetness came back in full force as their resident sadist clearly enjoyed every moment of Ironhide's discomfort.

"He's learning to shield, then. Why, this is wonderful news, indeed, Ironhide, and I'm honoured you chose to share this breakthrough with me. I do-"

"_Ratchet!"_

The flare of anger through their bond wasn't something Ratchet could have missed and the medic paused and sent Ironhide an amused expression and when he spoke again, it was in his normal voice, calm and collected and utterly unimpressed.

"He is punishing you, Ironhide. Or rather, that Seeker part is. For the moment, you are its chosen future mate and you refused to give it Sideswipe when it felt revenge was rightfully its to claim," he drawled. "It is much like a spoiled sparkling in that regard. How often do you honestly think a Seeker would be told no by a mate or someone it courted if there was something it truly wanted? It will tolerate myself or Optimus doing so but in your case, I would assume it intends to ignore you until you make it up to it or it gets distracted by something sufficiently... shiny, as the humans would put it. It is reminding you that there are other choices of mates out there and that it is in your own best interest to remember that and act accordingly."

It was silent as Ironhide simply stared at him for a long moment.

"He is... punishing me," he repeated in a suspicious voice, not actually sure if this was just another display of their medic's warped sense of humour, and if it wasn't, how the Pit he was supposed to react to it, then.

"Yes. Major Lennox is military but the Seeker isn't and that requires some compromises to be made," Ratchet responded and answered the question Ironhide hadn't even voiced. "They are slowly but surely learning to get along and the last few days' display around you has been intended mostly to remind you of, in its mind, the honour it is bestowing upon you by showing interest in a mere ground-pounder. Clumsily, granted, because it is still only core programming at work, but those are the principles of it. I doubt the human side is even completely aware of why they are doing this." A pause and then more amusement as Ratchet seemed to realise something else. "It's proof of the seriousness of its interest, too, for what it is worth. It would not have bothered if it did not see you as a serious option for a mate."

There was another long moment of silence after that as Ironhide still couldn't find any better response than simply stare, and Primus, but life had been so much fragging _simpler_ when his human brother in arms had actually _been _human and if not sane, then at least reasonably predictable to those who knew him.

"Lennox understands and appreciates what you did," Ratchet continued. "This does not change the fact that the Seeker is still displeased with you." A shrug. "Leave it to its own devices, Ironhide. It will come around soon enough. Had we been on Cybertron, some grovelling might have been needed to keep it around, but not here. Out of the very few members of our species on this planet, you are the only realistic option for it. Had we had Seekers still... then yes, it could be a problem, but despite it all, it is an Autobot. The 'Con Seekers have never been a consideration." A pause, relenting. "Well, not a serious one, at least."

Ironhide wasn't sure if the last addition was supposed to make him feel better or not, and it wasn't something he wanted to think about a whole lot, either, and so he changed the subject before he got the dubious pleasure of remembering the graphic fantasies he had gotten from the bond with the human-turned-Seeker.

"How about Prime?" Prime, who'd had the Seeker interested before and had kicked its aft with barely any effort at all, and slag it all, but those fraggers _liked_ it rough-

"Lennox would never agree," Ratchet responded and there was absolutely no doubt or hesitation in his voice. "Yes, the Seeker likes and respects him again and yes, it would undoubtedly be more than pleased if Lennox relented on that point, but he won't. You know him, Ironhide. He would never see Optimus like that, regardless of how much the Seeker may influence him. For that matter, I doubt Optimus would agree, either." A pause, really _looking_ at Ironhide in the way that always made the weapon specialist feel like a lab specimen under a microscope, and then a look of bemusement crossed the medic's features. "Are you _jealous_, Ironhide?"

And if that wasn't a trap, Ironhide didn't know what was, and he settled for a snort in response before he reluctantly answered a moment later, trying to put it into terms that wouldn't earn him another barrage of sarcasm. "He's a friend. He's got nice wings. I'm attracted to him. We're not 'facing and I know their build would want a slagging harem if they could get away with it. I want to know what I'm dealing with so I don't frag up anything with the human. I know they have the common sense of a malfunctioning combat drone when they're like this and I know I'd beat myself up for the rest of my existence if I did something stupid that made him do something he'd regret. I have to know what I'm dealing with and you're the closest thing to an expert we have, so do your slagging job and help me, _medic_."

The last bit had been Ironhide's attempt to bait him in return but frustration with the ridiculousness of the whole situation didn't particularly help on his wit, and Ratchet clearly didn't think so, either, since the only reaction he managed to get from the mech in question was another amused look.

"I already told you, Ironhide. You can either go grovel or wait for it to come around on its own accord. Unless you feel like proving your dominance repeatedly in the future, I recommend you settle for the second option. It knows it doesn't have a lot of choices in mates here, and it knows you should know it, too. Grovelling when there is no competition at all for its affection would be a sign of weakness. That is my professional option," he added in a drawl. "Now, unless you are next on the list of medical check-ups, find something else to do. Of course, I'm certain Arcee wouldn't mind waiting if you missed this so much that you showed up early, but..."

Endless time spent in the infirmary having countless injuries patched up by the medic in front of him hadn't been wasted. Ironhide considered his options and an instant later wisely chose a strategic retreat before Ratchet could finish that sentence.

* * *

Around the same time, the subject of the discussion found himself enjoying the first actual sunshine in what felt like entirely too long a while. Granted, he could always take off and fly above the cloud cover – and had done that just about daily, too – but a clear, blue sky was still something different.

Air flowed by and caressed the sensor nodes on his wings as he settled for a leisurely Mach two, only a few, random wisps of clouds breaking up the view below him. Diego Garcia was an uneven ring of green and white in the ocean below him, marked by stripes and squares of runways and buildings, and even a nearby visiting aircraft carrier looked like nothing more than a child's toy in a bathtub. He would get up close and personal with that one, he knew, and learn to handle himself on a ship like that when Ratchet deemed him stable enough to try without accidentally destroying something important. Given that he still took off and handed on one of the less-used runways, he couldn't really blame the medic and if he was perfectly honest, he didn't mind, either. Once he got used to dealing with the aircraft carrier he would have to learn to fly with normal human jets, too, and that really wasn't something he looked forward to. The Seeker was predictably unimpressed and Will didn't particularly care for the thought, either. He understood that he might have to fly and fight side by side with them someday but that didn't change the fact that he was faster, lighter, and a lot more agile than those things would ever be and there was really no point in wasting time on something that would only slow him down.

Not that he'd aired that particular point of view to Epps. Able to transform into an F-22 or not, he still didn't feel like spending half an hour listening to the complete list of virtues of fighter jets of the United States Air Force, as told by Robert Epps. The similarities between him and one of said jets were superficial at best and pretty much non-existent after two minutes in the air.

_We transform,_ the Seeker huffed in agreement. _We do not lower ourselves to match their pathetic capabilities._

Used to the alien presence in his mind by now, Will didn't even try to argue. It did have a point and arguing would be a waste of energy for both of them. Truce, cooperation, compromise, and the longer he was exposed to that alien presence, the less he minded it, too. Understanding how it thought and was programmed in the first place went a long way in giving him patience with its ego and assorted other issues. It also helped that the training session with their Prime had gotten rid of quite a lot of the short temper and annoyance he had carried around, too. He didn't know how – and when he thought about it, really didn't _want_ to know, either – but it had returned his frustration to a tolerable level and compared to the days leading up to that fight, it was damn well heaven.

Air control was watching him somewhere below, a steady stream of information crossing his processors and being dismissed for the most part, and he completed a wide, lazy turn over the neighbouring islands before he set in the full force of his engines and went straight up. Mach two was good, Mach two was nice, but it wasn't _freedom_, and nothing could really compare to the roar of engines pushed to their limits; to the vibration of metal and the scream of air as he tore through the sky, and he made a triumphant spin as the Seeker fairly glowed in approval.

He had been grounded for a day by Ratchet due to the injuries from that training session and had stayed close to Diego Garcia the day after that as well to keep his team-mates from frowning too much after the incident with Sideswipe, but now it was sunshine and clear and he was fragging well going to _fly,_ politics and all be damned.

_We are not fragile_, the Seeker sulked as it still lingered on the insult of being grounded for an entire day, and Will didn't try try to argue with that, either.

_I know. He was just worried. He's doing the best he can._

Another impression of silent sulking and then it was swept away as they levelled out and there was nothing but endless ocean and infinitely tiny islands around them for hundreds and hundreds of miles in any direction. There weren't any explicit limits to where he could go but that didn't mean he didn't pick up on the implicit ones. The further away he went, the greater the risk that he would run into the 'Con Seekers with no backup in sight, for one. Another one was the shipping lane that ran south and east of Diego Garcia – while it wouldn't be a problem if he was too far up to be seen, it would be a bad idea at best to play tag with any passing ships in a fit of boredom, which left west and north as the better options if he wanted to stretch his wings.

Intel on this particular day put the 'Con Seeker nowhere within a thousand miles of him and nothing between him and due west but clear skies, and maybe that was why it took him so long to notice; with the roar of engines and the freedom of stretching his wings after endless days kept leashed, and it was only after several long seconds that a flashing icon in his processors managed to get his attention for long enough to be noticed at all.

Small, flashing, and very, very familiar, and he snapped into a barrel roll before he even knew it, letting out sudden shock before it could cloud his processors too much.

Several more seconds passed and the fragging thing kept blinking, and Will shuddered subconsciously even as the Seeker sent the hesitant feeling of _question-uncertainty-permission_ at him.

_It's not an Autobot,_ Will pointed out, even if he knew damn well that wouldn't matter. _It doesn't have the right encryption._

It wasn't the same channel as the first time, either, but that didn't mean a thing. Anyone with even the slightest bit of sense changed those channels frequently and while Will didn't like the 'Cons, that didn't mean they were stupid.

That feeling of a question from the Seeker still lingered and Will kept ignoring the insistent little icon and knew just as well that it was a lost fight. They hadn't heard anything from the 'Cons since the battle that had ended so very, very wrong but that didn't mean they weren't planning something. It was Megatron, after all, and NEST had learned painfully that the longer the slaghead stayed silent, the worse the news tended to be when he finally showed up again.

They had looked around, of course, poked where they could and waited to see if something reacted, but the painful truth was that for the moment they had no intel, no clue, and frag it, Starscream wasn't stupid enough to let something slip on accident, but if that was all Will could do right now to help, then he would fragging well do just that.

The icon continued to flash and Will took a moment to focus and try to calm himself before he silently warned the Seeker of his intentions and then resolutely accepted the connection that he had been offered.

"Decepticon Air Commander Starscream to Autobot Seeker Will, negative six-point-seven, seven-zero-point-two. Did the ground-pounders finally let you out to play?"

The voice that greeted him was strong, dominant, almost purring, and every bit as familiar as that icon had been, and Will just as resolutely forced down that instinctive response of respect and submission and – thankfully muted – lust that made him shudder and desperately wish he could scrub the images out of his brain. This time he was prepared, though, and he ruthlessly pushed aside the programmed responses from the Seeker and focused on the actual conversation instead.

"Decepticon Air Commander, this is Autobot Seeker. Don't you have better things to do than make Soundwave watch my aft?" he snapped back, a bit harsher and a lot less calm and collected than he had intended but really, in this case, he would take what he could.

Whatever he had expected in response, the dark laughter that followed wasn't it, and a moment later he wished he had just left the damn icon alone and kept his stupid mouth shut as Starscream continued.

"But it's such a nice one of the kind, _Will._"

And damn it if he didn't make Will's designation sound like a caress even over the distance of their comm channel and the Seeker reacted with startled pleasure and a sudden surge of renewed lust that Will frantically fought to push aside.

_Get a slagging grip on yourself!_ he snapped to the alien presence in his mind and the relief he felt as the waves of lust waned and died was so strong that he didn't doubt it could be felt by Ironhide all the way back on Diego Garcia, shielding and stubbornness be damned.

"Does that one really work or are the rest of the 'Cons just too cowardly to refuse when you tell them to roll over and beg?" Will bit back and that tar-like feeling of disgust still clung to his mind even as he tried to ignore it by keeping one optic on his surroundings in the – admittedly unlikely – case that he was flying into an ambush.

Another dark laugh, and mercurial moods and all, the Air Commander sounded honestly _amused_, and that unsettled Will more than he cared to admit. He didn't want the attention of a 'Con. It was bad enough to deal with his own Seeker's graphic fantasies. He didn't need any of the 'Con Seekers to encourage that. Starscream was supposed to snarl and leave in a fit when he didn't get his way. Not play along, and not be amused by it, either.

"Who would turn down a Seeker, _Will?_ We are divine, we are perfection, and we are proof of the wisdom and greatness Primus displayed in creating us. If you have yet to have those pathetic ground-pounders worshipping at your feet, it is no fault of our build. If you deserve your designation in any way, certainly you will have realised that. A Seeker is born to rule, to claim dominance over the worthless, planet-bound creatures and let them reach a moment of the divine in being allowed to attend to us. Or did your Prime neglect to mention those minor facts?"

"That you're a raving megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur?" Will drawled. "Oh, he mentioned that but I think I would have worked it out on my own. But thanks for asking."

He noticed he had effectively managed to stun his own Seeker into silence with that, a shell-shocked mix of disbelief, horror, and the clear impression of the thing doing a more than passable goldfish impression as it struggled for something to say, and it became clear a moment later that Starscream wasn't entirely unaffected, either, as an angry snarl greeted Will in response.

"Your Prime knows nothing of power, Autoscum. No true Seeker would bow to one as weak as that. He can't even rein in his own men. He yields to the fleshlings and prefers to see his own breed killed rather than harm his precious organics. They have a word for that, Seeker – _traitor."_ And as quickly as the anger had arrived it faded again and the voice was low and powerful and seductive again and Will found himself bitterly cursing every slagging bit of programming that let him react to that voice, too, no matter how much he fought it."Lord Megatron wishes nothing more than to see our home rebuilt. Is that not what we all wish? A proper home where we will not have to hide from organics who see us as nothing more than something to be dissected like a scientific experiment and destroyed when our usefulness runs out? Cybertron will rise again and our home will be returned to us. That is Lord Megatron's offer to our kind: a home, freedom, and the respect that is rightfully ours. Your Prime can offer none of those."

And Starscream slagging well _knew_ what he was doing because Will felt his own Seeker instantly respond to the words, a spark-deep longing at the mention of 'home' – the glyph that Will's mind mentally translated to _family-safe-origin-belonging_ – and it took him long, painful moments to push the emotion aside for long enough to even focus on anything else.

_This is home,_ he told the Seeker in his mind. _This is where we were born, this is our family, this is where we belong._

A flicker of uncertainty and then the alien presence focused on him again and Will felt a surge of clarity as it gave him its full attention again and he had never been prouder of it than the moment he felt it turn its mental back on Starscream and ignore the Air Commanders presence completely, power, strength, and rank be damned. So maybe they wouldn't get intel out of the 'Con but that didn't mean it had been a complete waste of time.

"Go take a dive in a lava-pit, Starscream," Will snorted and it was all he could do to control his glee as he felt his Seeker half add its silent, fierce agreement. "Earth is home now. This is where we're staying. So thanks, but no thanks."

Judging by the angry hiss that followed, the reply didn't go over well, but Will hadn't expected it, too, either, and he was ready before Starscream even began to reply.

"You will regret this, Autoscum!" that familiar voice hissed, low and grating on his processors like nails on a blackboard as it lost some of the attraction that the Seeker half felt for its counterpart. "We will-"

"-Keep whining until you get your way?" Will drawled and focused on the connection, one mental finger ready to disconnect. "I noticed that, too. Give my regards to the slagger in charge. Goodbye, Starscream."

And with the flicker of a thought the connection died and sure, it was childish and spiteful and pissing off the Decepticon Second in Command was probably on the top ten list of stupid things he had done in his career, but damn it if it didn't feel good.

With a gleeful roar of his engines, he turned sharply and then headed up and east even as he transmitted a copy of the conversation back to Diego Garcia. They would talk about it later, he knew, but for now there was only him and his Seeker and warm, glorious sunshine, and echoing the purr of his alien half, he settled in for some long-needed stretching of his wings. There would be plenty of time to worry later. For now, they had some flying to do.


	18. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Deadlines at work are closing in so if the next couple of chapters get a bit delayed, you know why. I hope to update on the normal schedule but figured I might as well put up a warning in advance :)

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As expected, he had spent the rest of the day on terra firma after he had finally relented and returned to base. It wasn't as much an order as it had been a matter of circumstances – by the time debriefings and various other meetings were over, it was well into evening, and while Will would never turn down an opportunity to fly, the fact remained that they were in the middle of the Indian Ocean, it was pitch black and the view would be boring to say the least. There was a stray thought of chasing the sunset or flying ahead to greet the dawn, but it was gone again as quickly as it had arrived. It would take him out of the safe range of Diego Garcia and he knew just as well that the stray temptation was nothing more than the Seeker wanting to prove its independence and how very much it did not need its fellow Autobots after the thing with Sideswipe.

The Seeker was still annoyed about that and there had been more than a flicker of anger directed at their Prime during the debriefing as well. It hadn't been much that had caused it – a slight frown about Will's taunts to Starscream was all – but it had been enough to make the Seeker snarl silently and Will instinctively raise every mental defence in response. It had been their afts out there, Seeker to Seeker, and he had slagging well heard Ironhide and Sideswipe and the Twins mock the 'Cons often enough in battle.

_What do pathetic ground-pounders know about our kind?_ the alien presence in his mind had snarled in agreement and watched their Prime's every move suspiciously for the rest of the debriefing.

Will could understand Optimus on a level – Ironhide and Sideswipe had long since proven that they could back up those taunts when attacked – but he was a Seeker and this was none of their fragging business, and while he knew perfectly well that at least part of it was Seeker programming influencing his mind, he didn't try to block it. The annoyance was Seeker-based but the insults had been purely human, and he was oddly touched that even when he got the clear impression that he had broken more than a few Seeker protocols during that talk, the Seeker in his mind still backed him in it. It didn't matter that he ignored parts of it and that he stubbornly kept as much of his human side as he could – a week ago the Seeker would probably have snarled at him for doing it, but now it backed him as a fellow Seeker, and that more than anything told Will that the truce might actually work.

Still, even that debriefing couldn't ruin Will's good mood. They had gotten back at Starscream, stretched their wings, and if the 'Cons decided to take insult, well, then frag them, too.

To make up for being stuck indoors for half a day, they were up before the break of dawn and greeted the first rays of sunshine a hundred miles above the infinitely tiny island they called home. Hours later, when they showed up for Ironhide's daily lesson, even the Seeker's stubborn annoyance with the mech couldn't quite stop the silent purr from the pleasure of it all – it was dry, it was sunshine, and it was good.

The annoyance was fading, too, Will could tell as much. Three days after the training session gone wrong, the Seeker was slowly starting to relent enough to be able to admire Ironhide again, scarred black and cannons that could take down just about anything short of a combiner, and Will was silently relieved that things were getting somewhat back to normal. The peace and quiet had been a nice change but the bird-brain's insistence of looking at other mechs, however obvious of a ruse it was, had been more than a bit unnerving. All in all, the devil you knew was probably to be preferred, and after another moment, he inclined his head slightly in greeting; a thing the Seeker had stubbornly refused to do for the past couple of days.

The Seeker offered a feeling of sulking annoyance in the back of his head, still offended that it hadn't been given Sideswipe, and Will sighed mentally in return. He understood the sulking and it wasn't really its fault that it had been programmed like that but it was still getting annoying fast.

_He did what I told him to. It's not his fault._

Another faint feeling of sulking followed at that, not that Will had expected anything else. Will had never been the type to hold much of a grudge but waking up with an alien presence in his head, he had gotten more lessons in holding grudges than he had ever wanted. He had hoped it was just the young age of the thing being an issue and that it would grow out of it again – and hopefully sooner rather than later – but a talk with Ratchet had gotten rid of that delusion pretty fast. Seekers had strong emotions and grudges were right up there near the top of the list. At most, it would learn to take less offence over the years and simply hold on to those fewer grudges that much longer instead.

Which, come to think of it, probably explained some of Starscream's behaviour around Megatron, too, since Will didn't doubt there was a history of grudges between those two that made Ironhide's issues with the slaggers look normal in comparison.

In front of them, Ironhide watched them for long seconds and Will raised his head in a silent challenge and let him. Ironhide had presence, Ironhide had power – not as much as their Prime, but still enough to be felt, and it was a testament to the Seeker's displeasure that it would openly defy him like that. Will didn't move as seconds stretched on, knew that the other mech could probably tell that he wasn't quite as self-confident as he let on but still not about to back down... and then Ironhide nodded slightly in return and it was all that Will could do not to release the tension in his body in one relieved sigh. Instead it remained for a little while longer, wings released from their unnatural stillness first, then the slow relaxing of shoulders and clawed hands, and there was no amusement in Ironhide's voice when he spoke.

"Still in a slag-aft mood?"

"It's a Seeker-thing," Will responded in a carefully neutral voice. "We don't handle long meetings well."

Ironhide did snort at that; the first genuine emotion Will had seen from him since he had landed again that morning. "Or being told no. I'm not stupid, Lennox," he continued before Will could object. "You've been avoiding me so I talked with Ratchet. I would have asked you but it turns out that cornering a Seeker when it doesn't want to be is about as easy as getting a target-lock on Skywarp."

So Ironhide knew what was going on, which neatly reminded Will that cannon-fetish and all aside, his friend was definitely not stupid. He hadn't survived for so long just by virtue of strong armour and a brilliant field medic. It also saved Will from having to find a way to explain the whole thing to the other mech – he had considered several approaches before he had dismissed them all and settled for hoping that the mech just simply wouldn't notice. That plan, obviously, had just been scrapped... not that he had held much hope in the first place. The Seeker _was_ being blatantly obvious about its actions, which wasn't that much of a surprise considering it was all being done for Ironhide's benefit in the first place.

Since they were already moving into 'uncomfortable topic' territory, Will sighed mentally and decided he might as well get rid of another question that had nagged him since the meeting.

"So how much did you pick up?" he asked, honestly curious about the answer. He had shielded their bond to the best of his ability and there hadn't been anything really disgustingly graphic in nature, so it wasn't likely to be too embarrassing, either.

Unreadable optics watched him for a long second.

"Some. Emotions, no images. You're getting better," Ironhide finally replied, and there was something in his voice that Will couldn't quite decipher.

_Relief-regret?_ the Seeker sent questioning in response and Will blinked. It should have sounded off – with the sort of images they had given Ironhide, he should be grateful for some peace and quiet – but it felt somehow right, and if nothing else, it would probably make the weapon specialist twitch a little if he got it wrong.

"So tell me I'm nuts and hearing things, but was that _disappointment_?"

Ironhide snorted again. "As a human, you had the longest medical file of any human NEST personnel save for Samuel. You do not just attract trouble; you actively seek it out when it fails to show up fast enough. Do you expect me to believe that's changed with that new personality in your head?"

Good point, that, and Will didn't even bother to argue, even if there was a renewed wave of huffy sulking from the Seeker at that. He'd worked at the mech's side for entirely too long to be able to talk his way out of it and the Seeker's sulking only served to confirm Ironhide's words... not that there had been any doubt in the first place.

"So?" Lack of argument or not, Will still couldn't quite keep out the slight challenge in his words. He hadn't been _that_ bad – someone had to put their aft on the line sometimes, and he preferred it to be him rather than his men whenever possible. They'd all known what they had signed up for, too, for that matter, and a sudden flare of anger made him continue even when some faint whisper of common sense told him to stop and shut up. He knew a good part of it was the Seeker's emotions he was getting, but he also knew just as well that it could have been much worse, and their whole situation was based on a give-and-take partnership. He could deal with having a few more issues than normal and if nothing else, it was still better than having the damn thing ignore Ironhide completely like the past couple of days. "You want a nice little leash on me? Keep track of the sparkling so he doesn't do anything stupid like pulling his own weight in battle? Newsflash, Ironhide – I'm a weapon. You may have the cannons but I'm bigger, faster, and heavier than you are. I'm not something to be coddled because you think I'm too weak to tell Megatron and Starscream to frag themselves."

The only thing that revealed Ironhide's annoyance in turn was the way his fists clenched and a slight edge to his words, but it was all Will needed to feel his own defensive systems prepare for a possible attack even as the weapon specialist answered. "You're not a sparkling but you're untrained and you have a reckless, delusional Seeker in your head that spends more time thinking about interfacing than war. Like it or not, Lennox, it's a fragging miracle that you haven't gone off and done something stupid yet, and since I know it's going to happen sooner or later, having some idea of where you are and what you're doing might be a good idea for all of us."

And even as the Seeker snarled in their mind, Will realised that this was exactly the sort of thing he could work with. It wasn't that different from the situation with Optimus. The Seeker was less pissy, less serious about it all, but the base instinct was the same – beat the slag out of the offending mech until it learned its place or proved that it could handle whatever got dished out.

Whatever faint voice of common sense he had left vanished completely at that as he let Seeker instincts take insult and the human side bristled at the words as well, however much he might know there was some measure of truth in it, deep, deep down. "You're the one who told me to learn to shield myself," Will snapped. "First you want me to stop broadcasting, now you think it's a shame I learned? Make up you mind, before I tell Ratchet to check your processors for memory decay."

He heard the distinctive whine of a cannon charging but not actually moving into combat mode – the sure-fire way to know when Ironhide was well and truly pissed – and then the sound stopped abruptly as the darker mech just stared at him.

"Are you _asking_ to have your aft whipped?"

The Seeker snarled silently at the implication that anyone would even think of besting it, especially a mate who was too ignorant to know proper behaviour at all, but Will just raised his head slightly in a silent challenge. "Worked with Optimus, didn't it?"

Ironhide kept staring at him with a look that clearly said he was wondering what sort of expenses he could put a Cybertronian-sized straight-jacket under, and Will snorted in return. "You don't seem to mind when we train and I know you're holding back there. You can either get the first shot, or I'll do it myself. Either way, one of us will get our aft kicked."

The only warning Will got was the sudden, intense glow in Ironhide's optics, the same gleeful love of a good fight he had seen in battle when he had still been human, and then there was nothing but tarmac and the sound of metal against metal as the weapon specialist let cannons be cannons and sent Will into the ground with one hard strike. Seeker reflexes were stunned for fractions of a second and then the fight was on, and even as the Energon sang in their veins and he could already imagine Ratchet's glare, it didn't matter how one-sided that fight might be.

The Seeker was snarling in the back of his mind but there was reluctant approval there as well, the lust of war that came natural to any one of the breed, and it didn't help that Will had never been one to shy away from hand-to-hand combat, either. Sure, he was big and clumsy and had to learn a whole new set of reactions and moves, but it didn't change the fact that he was fast and strong and could actually take on Ironhide in a one on one fight without having the mech hold back. And sure, he didn't stand a chance in the Pit of actually winning, but that had never been the point of it, either.

Wings struck tarmac, sent warnings flaring in his processors before he dismissed them an instant later, and then he struck out as well with bird-like legs that he still hadn't gotten properly used to, and it was all he could do to keep the glee off of his face when Ironhide went down only slightly less gracelessly than Will had done.

Of course, that didn't help him much when Ironhide hit the ground already in motion and he found himself slammed painfully back against the tarmac, and judging from the glow in the mech's optics, he wasn't the only one to enjoy the impromptu battle.

"Faster than usual," Ironhide growled and got a grip between two large plates that made the Seeker snarl and tear claw-marks into Ironhide's own heavy armour. "Getting better or just getting pissier?"

And Ratchet was going to have their _sparks_ for this but Will just offered a toothy grin in response. "Let's say both."

The roar of twin jet engines as they ignited for less than an instant tore Will free but the intended turn that would have landed him on Ironhide was ruined as the weight of the mech on him made it impossible to predict where he would end up. All it got him was another hard landing on the tarmac as the engines cut out again, and then Ironhide was back, one massive arm slamming against his throat to pin him to the ground even as he felt the weight of the mech settle on his body.

"Still got the common sense of a malfunctioning drone," Ironhide snorted and perhaps for that reason didn't release his hold just yet.

Will snorted in return but didn't fight and forced his body to relax, silently accepting defeat. "Frag you, too," he said and couldn't quite keep a satisfied smugness from his voice. He may have lost but he wasn't the only one with injuries to fix.

And as quickly as the battle as started it was over again and only then did Will notice the strange stillness of the alien presence in his mind. The frustration and annoyance and anger was gone, and Will suspected the feeling from it was confusion but it was gone before he could be sure, replaced by a surge of respect and pleased purring as the graphic images that had stayed away for days returned in full force.

Grey against black, metal against metal and hands against wings, and the heating fans that Will had almost blissfully forgotten about kicked in an instant later as the full weight of Ironhide pinning him registered in his mind, and with it came the realisation of what had just happened. Three ways to deal with a sulking Seeker – ignore it, grovel, or put it in its place – and it wasn't until now the Seeker had stopped sulking for long enough to remember that putting it in its place meant that Ironhide had proven his dominance and that every instinct in the Seeker's processor told it to submit to its mate in turn.

Ironhide startled almost imperceptibly at the sound, probably as unfamiliar with the situation as Will himself was, and Will had enough of the Seeker's perspective to recognise the glow in his optics. Ironhide was attracted to them – to him or the Seeker, the difference wasn't that big anymore, and Will could live with that, too – and he reacted on instinct before the mech could ever move.

One clawed hand dug hard into the crack between two bits of plating on Ironhide's shoulder and gripped the delicate wires and lines with almost enough force to damage them, felt the hum of energy and the pulse of a spark that was probably older than humanity itself, and Ironhide stilled before he could do anything more than shift his weight and prepare to let his captive go.

"Lennox..." A low growl, part threatening, part warning, part... something else, and Will tightened his grip slightly and offered another toothy smirk in response.

"That feels like a main Energon line. How long would we have to get Ratchet here if it snapped?" One fingers traced lightly against the line in emphasis, tugged and let go and repeated it all again, and he could feel the pulse of it pick up and a surge of heat as the body above him responded.

"Long enough to beat the slag out of you if you tried," Ironhide growled back, the high-pitched whine of a charging cannon mingling with the sound of venting intakes, but he didn't even shift as Will tugged on the Energon line again, slightly gentler and more curious this time.

There was something to be said for power and control, however much the Seeker might like to have a partner prove its dominance, and Will was acutely aware of the fact that this time the heating fans could not be blamed on the alien part of his mind.

Another gentle tug, tracing the side of his finger against the lines and wires to feel the charge build under Ironhide's plating, and this time he was rewarded with a slight shudder and creaking metal as Ironhide's arm against his throat pushed down to keep a firm hold of his opponent, even if they both knew that unless the cannons came into play or Will withdrew his hand, that Seeker grip could cause serious damage a lot faster than Ironhide could. It was the first time Will had truly had the upper hand when it came to Ironhide and the low rumble of a half-purr, half-growl that broke the silence was far more human than Seeker.

Ironhide was a mech, an alien, something so long-lived and powerful that it was almost incomprehensible to a human mind; a good friend and ally and attractive for his own qualities, but right now all Will could focus on was the raw power he held in his hand, the utter stillness of the darker mech and the knowledge that if he pulled back on those lines and wires, Ironhide would follow, and only at the sharp hiss that followed did he realise that he had tightened his grip on the Energon line again.

He held his grip for a second, blue optics meeting equally blue optics as neither was willing to yield, and then he loosened his grip but still didn't let go.

"Lennox." A firm, quiet warning, giving him a chance to back out before something went wrong, and the Seeker was confused and attracted and bewildered by the whole thing, and Will pushed it all firmly aside with only a word at that alien presence.

_Truce,_ he murmured silently and the surge of heat that followed was all the confirmation he needed to know that the Seeker understood.

He caressed the Energon line again, lingered on the feel of the pulse against his hand and the heat and the still-building charge and he kept his voice deliberately casual as he spoke.

"The Seeker part would have gone submissive on you the moment you put it in its place." An almost vicious tug on the heated line followed by a sharp sound from Ironhide at the pain, and the smirk Will offered in response was pure challenge. "The Seeker would have submitted. _I'm_ going to make you work for it."

He could see the moment the penny dropped, darkened optics and an expression that he had definitely never been on the receiving end of as a human, and then there was nothing but searing heat and metal and the gleeful thrill of the fight as Ironhide struck and their world descended into the sort of flirting that would land them both in the infirmary; tired, bruised, and disgustingly smug about it all.


	19. Chapter 17

**A/N:** The author just got over a cold and the beta's still sick with one so here, have a sadistic medic! :D (Sorry to anyone who hoped for smut in this chapter ^^; )

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Ironhide had always suspected that Primus hated him. Evidence of this particular theory currently came in the shape of the embodiment of the wrath of Primus – that at this particular moment happened to answer to the designation 'Ratchet' – and that string of curses that followed as said medic removed one bit of Ironhide's shoulder plating none-too-gently and set to work on the lines and wires underneath.

"Imbecilic front-liner," Ratchet growled and twisted something tightly around Ironhide's damaged Energon line. "It's a wonder you haven't offlined yourself aeons ago."

Whatever he had done to the line, it hurt – not enough for Ironhide to bother complaining about, because the medic undoubtedly knew already and didn't care, but enough to be annoying – and Ironhide bit down a snarl before it could make its way to his vocalizer. The pain wasn't as familiar as most kinds were but then, most of the time when he needed Energon lines fixed, the rest of him was in pieces, too, and he would be out cold or have much more painful things to worry about.

A painful jab of something against the line, and Ratchet kept cursing all the while.

"Plate-headed-" Jab. "Aft-minded-" Jab. "Spawn of a _drone_."

A particularly painful jab concluded the tirade and this time Ironhide yelped in surprise.

"Watch it, medic!"

"Then stop provoking him!" Ratchet snapped right back. "Perhaps this will get it through the bits of scrap you call a processor. At the rate this is going, you two will cause more damage to yourself and each other than a full-scale Decepticon attack, you antiquated piece of scrap."

There wasn't really anything to say to that so Ironhide bit back an insult to keep from annoying the medic any further and settled for silence as one injury was patched up and Ratchet continued on to the next one, marginally less vicious about it this time.

"It's mostly superficial," Ratchet continued, a bit calmer. "He has no serious injuries, so I'll deal with him afterwards. The wings will annoy him until then, but that might teach him to think before he acts next time." Another, fainter twinge of pain followed as a string of sensor nodes lit up again after Ratchet reconnected a torn wire, then faded again as the initial flood of information returned to normal levels. "Most of your injuries are superficial as well. This is the only serious one you had. From the looks of it, he didn't aim to harm you, but it is a vulnerable spot and his grip is more vicious than he likely knows. Also, be grateful that it was the human in charge out there. If not, it wouldn't be that flying pest you had to worry about."

Ironhide just nodded, accepted the threat for what it was – genuine concern about their new brother-in-arms – and let Ratchet finish up with the wires in silence. It didn't take long – a testament to how often Ratchet had performed a procedure that would only occasionally have been needed before the War – and then there was the absurdly relieved feeling he always got when he felt his armour click back into place. It wasn't a big piece but he still felt vulnerable without it and he didn't like it one bit.

"There, you big sparkling," Ratchet added with a bit of disgust. "I'm done. You can handle those scratches on your own."

_You fix **Will's**__ scratches,_ Ironhide sent over their bond and very firmly did not let the faint, sulking feeling he had come through as well... not that he doubted that Ratchet didn't already know, Pit-spawned, all-knowing medic that he was.

_**Will** doesn't squirm so much that I have to knock him out to get any work done,_ Ratchet sent back with a snort. _Fix it yourself, you sparkling. I'm in no mood to do it today when you caused those issues yourself._

Medics. Ironhide huffed and while he was tempted to just leave, there was something that had been nagging him since his ruffle with his new human-turned-Seeker partner. Two ways to handle a sulking Seeker, his aft.

"You could have told me," he said, a bit annoyed. "Ignore them or grovel, you said. You didn't mention beating him up would fix his issues a lot faster."

Ratchet snorted again, and Ironhide never ceased to be amazed just how much of an insult the medic could put into that one gesture when he put his mind to it – and right now, he clearly had. "What you just did to him was the equivalent of asking for an interface. By proving your dominance, his instinct would be to yield and prove to his mate – that would be you, in case you wondered – that he submitted."

Which explained a lot more than Ironhide had really wanted to know, and he had the sudden urge to go beat himself up for doing something as stupid as that... not that he intended to let Ratchet know, whatever other ways the mech in question might have of finding out.

"I knew that," Ironhide muttered and didn't quite lie. He should have known and it did make sense when he thought about it. "You could have warned me anyway."

"I could," Ratchet agreed in a voice that suggested that this particular could of action would have been about as likely as Megatron voluntarily handing over command to Starscream. "I chose not to risk you getting tempted. He had done his best to annoy you for two days straight by the time you showed up to complain to me, and judging by appearances, he succeeded quite well, too. If I had reminded you, you would have tried it when he made too much of a pest of himself regardless of what I told you, and I didn't particularly want to put the human in there through that sort of thing. Yes, they handled themselves quite well when it did happen but it wasn't the way I would have preferred to see if they could actually compromise in a situation like that."

Ironhide was about to argue when Ratchet gave him a Look and cut him off before he could even begin. "You are a front-liner, Ironhide. You shoot first and think later, and if possible, he has even less common sense than you do. It was a medical decision."

Argument over before it could even begin, Ironhide made an annoyed sound but didn't try to object again. It wasn't like he could really have made it credible, anyway. Good intentions or not, he knew himself well enough to know that if he had been told, he would have attacked first and regretted it later. He had less of a temper than he had once had but Seekers could be fragging offensive when they put their mind to it, and Ironhide had never been the type to tolerate that.

"Medics," he rumbled, although there was no heat behind the word, and Ratchet just snorted again.

"Medics," he agreed. "Now out, you big sparkling. Fix your own scratches. I have a patient to take care of."

Ironhide, wisely, did not object.

* * *

The wings looked... chirpy. Ratchet really had no other way to describe them. They shouldn't be, not with the annoyance the Seeker would undoubtedly feel from the damaged sensors that covered the wide expanses of grey, but chirpy they were nonetheless. The energy build-up in their owner was all but gone for the moment and there was an almost imperceptible, low rumble of a purr, but the wings were the surest sign of the human-turned-Seeker's mood. Perked upwards, occasionally moving in small, sweeping motions, and most telling moving in tune to that low sound of a purr. The wings looked chirpy and that more than anything was the reason why Ratchet was currently not tearing William Lennox a new exhaust.

At the most he was being a bit more rough with the damaged sensor nodes across Will's throat but even that didn't seem to bother the other mech in the least. If Ratchet hadn't been so determinedly ignoring that faint beginnings of a bond, he also didn't doubt that he would have felt the same emotion echoed there as well.

"You look happy," Ratchet observed after the silence had stretched on for too long and he had listened to nothing but the rise and fall of that low, contented sound as he worked. "Did you finally lose what remained of your sanity?"

The last had been added in a drawl to show that he wasn't completely serious and his patient smiled slightly in response even as those wings kept up their cheerful little movements. "Pissing 'Hide off? He likes it. I had fun. I'm starting to see what the Seeker likes so much about him and I wouldn't mind having another go." A shrug. "I learned some new tricks, too. I don't think I'd get close enough to a 'Con to use them but I guarantee that if I do, they'd get the surprise of their life."

"Oh, I have no doubts about that," Ratchet snorted, and then turned his attention to the wings and pushed aside the tiny bit of him that almost felt bad at restraining such an obvious sign of good cheer. Almost. The other wing kept up those slight movements even as Ratchet kept the nearest one still and he was silent for another long moment. "Are you certain this is what you want?" he finally asked.

"Ironhide?" Will looked bemused at that, glancing at his hands and flexing one absentmindedly in a gesture that Ratchet had learned to recognise as a sign of their new Seeker thinking about his situation. "It's not the Seeker dictating things, if that's what you're wondering."

Translation – even Will wasn't quite sure what he wanted, then, but before Ratchet could ask, Will had already turned his head slightly to watch him over his shoulder and continued.

"I'm never going to be human again, am I?"

Ratchet froze mid-motion at the question and then a moment later finished with the sensor node he had been working on. He knew the answer, he knew that Will knew the answer, but that didn't mean he didn't need to hear it; didn't mean that there still hadn't been that infinitely tiny spark of hope buried somewhere deep within.

"No," Ratchet finally said and settled for being straight-forward, because he knew the human well enough to know that it would be appreciated, however harsh that truth might be. "You shouldn't even be alive as it is. Primus brought you back in this shape. I... wouldn't know if it would even be possible to create a human body for you. I'm sorry."

Memories of a conversation long since over with-

"_Sam got brought back from the dead, too. **In his own body**."_

"_Sam actually **had** a body that could be revived."_

- and then Will nodded and turned his head to look at the wall straight ahead again.

"That's what I figured, too." The low rumble had stopped and the movement of the wings had become more muted, even if it was still there. "We've learned to get along. It's a pain to deal with sometimes, like having a six-year-old with weapons, sex drive, and no common sense, but it probably thinks the same thing about me when I frag up. The thing with Ironhide is a bit weird to my human brain but he's attractive, and beating up each other in a make-out session was a lot more fun than I'd thought it would be. We've learned to get along," he repeated, "because there isn't much of an alternative, is there? We're stuck together so we might as well make the best of it. Moping because I'm stuck like this won't do me a slagging bit of good, so I might as well not bother. I took some time to feel sorry for myself; now that time's up and I get to suck it up and cope, because that's life."

"Eloquent," Ratchet said quietly, never stopping his quick, efficient work with the damaged wings.

Will snorted. "That's what Bobby said, too." Silence again. "I'll never be human again, Ratchet. The closest thing I get to a human shape these days is the hologram in my cockpit and even that wouldn't pass inspection up close and personal. Solid holoforms are useful for mechs like 'Bee or you or Barricade, but not for Seekers. We were never built for it, were we?"

Ratchet had wondered before just how much that Seeker had taught their former human and now the question returned with renewed strength, and he kept his voice deliberately low and even as he answered. "It sounds like you already know the answer to that."

Will made a sort, sharp sound of laughter, even if there wasn't the remotest sign of amusement in his voice, and then he sighed, and Primus, but Ratchet had forgotten how fast those things could switch from one emotion to the next.

"Yeah. It takes a fragton of energy and processing power and it's pointless for a Seeker. We weren't built for it. Even if we could work around it and get that mod installed later..."

"It would be a drain on your reserves and processing power better spent focused on flying, it would slow you down in battle, and would be a potentially fatal liability," Ratchet finished, even if he didn't doubt that Will knew that just as well as Ratchet himself did. "As you said, holoforms are worthless in a Seeker's domain. It was never a consideration."

And it had presumably been the right thing to say, because the former human just nodded in response and Ratchet watched the unrestrained wing sag tiredly.

"Is this what I want, Ratchet? I don't know. He's a good friend, he's attractive, and sure, he's a giant, alien robot, but I'm starting to realise that so am I these days. It doesn't change the fact that I still believe myself to be married, regardless of the shape I might have now, and that I'll need time to come to terms with that, too. I'm not going to hurt him, Ratchet, and I know what I'm getting into. I'll never be human again. The sooner I can make myself come to terms with that, too, the better it'll be for everyone involved. We have a bond, too, and I might have gotten better at that, but I still can't block it when emotions run a bit too high, and considering the fact that I'm a Seeker..." A shrug. "I'm pretty much one big ball of emotions. Do you really think 'Hide didn't already know everything I just told you?"

"Point." One wing done, Ratchet set to work on the second one and this time he couldn't quite keep a sigh from his vocalizer. "He does see more than the Seeker in you," he added with a glance at his patient, even if said mech wouldn't see it. "In case you wondered."

"I never doubted it," Will said quietly. The fixed wing moved a little again, almost hesitant. "It's weird, being like this, but it's not like I've got a choice and it's not all bad. There's slag to deal with, a lot of it, but there are some good sides to it, too."

"Like flying?" Ratchet asked just as quietly as he continued with the minor, but numerous, repairs.

"Like flying," Will agreed, and that free wing spread out and up again to mirror its owner's change in mood for the better. "And 'Hide, and being able to actually do something to keep the rest of you safe without having you worry that the humans are going to get themselves squished." A pause, hesitant again- "I think... even Sarah's getting used to it. She knew I who I was when she married me and she still did it, and she's going to have my aft the first time I do something stupid, and we're still wondering what we're going to do about Annabelle, but..."

"But she loves you," Ratchet finished the sentence. "The human you used to be, certainly, and going by observations, I would say she cares a great deal about this shape you now hold as well."

"She's amazing," Will agreed, almost reverently, and then the wing settled down a bit again. "I was supposed to have died and she knows that. I would have died if it hadn't been for this. Big, alien robot and all... it's still better than being dead. I have her and she has me and I'm not human anymore but at least I can still be there for her."

"Yes." Ratchet tightened his grip on the wing as he handled one particularly damage sensor node, then lessened it again as he continued. "And you are rambling."

"I know." Will fell silent even if the unrestrained wing still spoke volumes about his mood as it moved slowly, thoughtfully, and almost cautiously, and Ratchet once more resisted the temptation to take the easy way out and make use of the bond he still hadn't mentioned to their new Seeker. Then Will sighed and finally seemed to work up the nerves to say out loud whatever was making his wings respond to that degree. "Monogamy isn't a Seeker trait, is it?" he asked quietly.

There were a lot of ways to answer that one but Ratchet already knew from experience which one would work the best.

"No," the medic said and settled for honesty.

It was silent as Will seemed to consider that and then he sighed again. "I sort of guessed that. I feel bad about being attracted to Ironhide, I feel bad about the fact that I'll probably get down and dirty with him eventually... I don't want to cheat on my wife but whenever that thought pops up in my head, the Seeker just wonders why I can't have both of them. Sarah and 'Hide and whoever else it decides to claim. It doesn't want to _share_ those mates with anyone, mind you, but it still wants to claim them for itself."

"It's that Seeker-ego," Ratchet offered as explanation. "It is a Seeker. As such, it should be have its every wish fulfilled and its every whim for a mate granted, and to share would be to imply that something lowly and ground-bound would be equal to it."

"Bird-brain in a nutshell," Will agreed. Another moment of pause as Ratchet finished up with the last of the sensors on the second wing and let go, and both of them stretched out before dropping a bit in what Ratchet recognised as nervousness. "Is that offer of... instructions still open?"

His voice had been quiet but stubborn, determined to ask no matter how stupid or embarrassed he might feel, and that was all Ratchet needed to know that he actually knew what he was asking.

"Whenever you may need them," he confirmed.

Will nodded and when he spoke again, his voice was a bit closer to normal. "Not now, I'm still... figuring out this whole thing; how much is the Seeker, how much is me... rolling around with him out there, I was definitely attracted but it's a bit harder just to go with the flow when my head clears again. I know some of it is me, I just need a little while to figure it out. But later... I'd appreciate it."

"And so would my infirmary, I assure you," Ratchet added dryly, and the words had the desired effect as Will smirked and the wings perked up again.

"_Someone_ needs to give Ironhide's record for repairs a run for its money."

"Not here, they don't," Ratchet snorted. "There, done. Out, you're fixed, go fly. You need it and Ironhide's going to rope you into fixing his scratches if he sees you."

A grin was all the response he got before the Seeker was gone and the roar of twin engines broke the silence not fifteen seconds later. Then they faded and were gone, and Ratchet sent his little kingdom a cheerful smile and set to work putting everything back where it belonged.


	20. Interlude 3

**A/N:** Deadlines hit! ... which is why this is a day delayed and an interlude rather than an actual chapter. As it turns out, a brain full of statistics is not conductive to any sort of writing that's supposed to be even remotely lukewarm, much less actually hot. So for an update, it was either an interlude to get the plot moving a little again... or it was a 3k essay on the wonders of statistics with the occasional 'Ironhide' and 'Ratchet' and 'slag' thrown in for good measure *cough* And trust me, nobody wants to see that. So an interlude it is! Thank you for your patience and we return to your regularly scheduled updates soon.

**A/N the Second:** I haven't found Morshower's first name mentioned anywhere, so I picked one at random. Let me know if the fella's got an actual first name anywhere?

* * *

When General Morshower had first been presented with the Autobots, it had been right after the mess that was Mission City. While what remained of the Qatar survivors and the Sector Seven troops might have thought they were busy, Aaron Morshower strongly suspected that none of them had a clue about what sort of chaos had broken out in the higher circles of the military after that disastrous battle. There was a cover-up to handle, dead civilians, soldiers, aliens – good and bad – and a government agency so secret that it made Morshower's own black ops boys look practically legit in comparison.

He had been introduced to the concept of aliens in the middle of an international crisis and had dealt with that in the best way he could – he had nodded, mentally delegated it for later, and gone right on with his job. By the time he actually had time to deal with the fact that not only were they not alone in the universe, but their room-mates were giant, alien robots... by then, Morshower had found himself officially holding the reins of a military alliance with said robots that was only marginally less classified than the recently disbanded Sector Seven had been.

How anyone intended to keep alien robots the size of minor houses secret, Morshower didn't know, and he had expected said military alliance to end up on the front page of every media outlet in the world within a week. The fact that they had only shown up on the fringes, in between stories of possessed babies and alien abductions of national monuments, was a testament to the sheer skill and determination displayed by the so-called communications department that worked around the clock to deep-six anything that might blow their cover.

When NEST had still been classified information three months later, Morshower had finally started to accept just what he was dealing with and arranged for his first visit to the new NEST base on Diego Garcia. It hadn't been Morshower's first visit there but it might as well have been – the part of the base that had been claimed for the team and had been adapted for Autobot use, and the feeling of being very small and very, very insignificant had stayed with him for a long time.

Optimus Prime hadn't helped on that, either. He was respectful, he had presence, he was well-spoken – the sort of leader that could ask his men to follow him to the gates of Hell and expect to have them follow. Morshower couldn't claim to be unaffected by that, either, and he had made a mental note to keep a close eye on anything to do with NEST. He wasn't on the front lines but they were good people, good aliens, and he would do what he could to help.

There had been issues, of course – the Autobot Sideswipe all but going rogue had been one – but all in all it was a sensible alliance, led by sensible people, and Morshower had trusted them to do what was right. Lennox had proven himself and was allowed much more freedom in commanding the human NEST force than most people would have been, and Morshower could sleep somewhat more easily in the knowledge that between Optimus Prime and William Lennox, NEST would stay its course and not venture too far into the temptation of power that any sufficiently large secret organisation held. He didn't for a moment doubt that the NEST teams themselves would probably end up more loyal to the Autobots than to the mostly-faceless commanders in Pentagon – Sector Seven had first and foremost been loyal to Sector Seven, too – but he could live with that as well. He trusted the commanders, and the commanders trusted their troops, and that was good enough for him.

His suspicions were confirmed when said human commander had disobeyed direct orders and talked his pilots into going to Egypt instead, but Morshower had still trusted that decision and given his own support in the shape of the military back-up they had so desperately needed. It had taken some hard words and quite a legal team to get his young NEST commander out of that particular bit of trouble but Morshower had done it gladly. NEST had never been a normal organisation and more than a few debriefings had reminded him of just how bizarre their missions could get, too, and how much of a mistake it would be to pick apart a team that _worked_ and replace a key member with someone untried and unknown.

And perhaps it was a sign of how used he had gotten to the strangeness of the group that even watching an alien jet in an F-22 disguise in the distance and knowing that it had once been human still wasn't enough to make him speechless. Close, but not quite there.

"The big boys want a report on your new flyboy," Aaron Morshower finally said and turned to look at the massive Peterbilt-turned-robot next to him – and by God, if there ever was a day when he didn't feel that bit of awe, he'd hand in his stars and let someone else get the job. "We'll make up something nice and safe and they'll stay off of our backs for a while again. Imply that he's shy and scared of humans after what happened – I've got some bright boys working on it. He'll be safe."

"It is appreciated," Optimus Prime replied in that calm, commanding sort of voice that never quite carried over in the video debriefings and which never failed to make Morshower straighten a bit, no matter how many times he heard it. "He has drawn enough attention already as it is, and not just from the human military."

"The 'Cons are being obvious about their plans," Morshower agreed. "We know it, they know we know it, and they want us to know. If it were just a normal raid they had planned, they could hide it a whole lot better than that. He's the target?"

"He is a Seeker." A moment of pause, watching that alien jet in the distance as it turned too sharply for any human to have survived, and Morshower could have sworn he heard a sigh from the alien at his side. "Seekers are Decepticons by programming. Their personality, their instincts, everything in them serves the Decepticon cause well. There have been Autobot Seekers but they were but a small group of them. Seekers were the cause of Megatron's air supremacy. Even one Autobot Seeker in the skies would be one too much for Megatron's preference. He will lure the Major to his side or he will destroy him. In Megatron's world, there are no other options. Starscream has tried and failed twice now to accomplish that. Megatron will not accept a third failure."

It was silent as Morshower considered that. It was a messy situation any way you looked at it, and it wasn't made any less messy by the circumstances the former human Major found himself in. Once upon a time, back when that young commander had still been human, Morshower would have trusted him. _Could_ have trusted him. Odds were Lennox would have ended up dead but he wouldn't have caved and he would probably have gotten in a few shots in the process. Aaron Morshower was familiar with his young commander's ability to beat the odds but he was also intimately aware of the number of casualties the human-alien alliance had caused, be they military, civilian, or allied aliens. He had demanded a list and NEST had obliged. Classified it into non-existence but they had obliged because like hell he was going to send young men out to die if he didn't have the balls to face that fact and he had been very firm in telling NEST that, too.

Lennox the human was someone Aaron Morshower would have trusted. _Will_ the Autobot Seeker, with an alien name Morshower could barely remember, much less pronounce... he didn't know nearly enough about that person to say for sure that he'd trust that thing to have his back and that was all that was needed to make the answer a resounding 'no'.

"Which one is it going to be?" he finally asked. The human-turned-Seeker was still doing air acrobatics above the island and Morshower couldn't quite keep out the sudden, slight chill in his bones. Fast, clever, heavily armed, and with inhuman reflexes... no wonder they hadn't manage to take one of those things permanently offline yet. Three of them was bad enough. Adding another one to that collection...

"General..." Optimus Prime's voice didn't sound like it was something he felt like talking about but it wasn't something Morshower had the time to accept anymore. Not with the Decepticons mobilizing and one friendly combatant on the battlefield that could potentially turn on them at a moment's notice.

"I didn't get my stars by being a pencil pusher," Morshower responded, quietly and firmly. "We both know the kid. Before all of this, I know he would have flipped Megatron the bird with a rocket launcher, consequences be damned. Now? Frankly, I don't have a clue what I'm dealing with and I would very much like to change that before that thing out there decides Megatron offers prettier missiles than we do. You're a leader, Prime. We've both made decisions that weren't particularly pretty. Now, between the two of us... which one is it going to be?"

It was silent again as the towering alien stared into the distance, at the sky or the Seeker or whatever else alien optics could see beyond that, and then Optimus Prime made the sigh-like sound again.

"Even he does not know at this point. He is not one person anymore. He is two beings merged into one and while they have learned to compromise, there is still a large element of uncertainty in play. He is possessive, stubborn, arrogant, and while his temper is still reasonable when compared to an average Seeker, it is far more than he ever displayed before. Furthermore, Seekers are attracted to the company of other Seekers and Starscream is quite adept in capitalizing on that."

"So he's a ticking bomb and no one knows who's going to be the target when he goes off," Morshower summarised.

The only reaction he received was a small nod but that was all he needed to understand the seriousness of it all, too. Optimus Prime believed in the best of people. Morshower didn't always, he had dealt with bureaucracy for too long for that, but he appreciated the sentiment and recognised it when he saw it. Optimus Prime believed in the best of people and that meant that when he warned about something, NEST listened. Morshower wasn't technically a part of NEST but he knew damn well to listen just fine, anyway.

Another moment of thought and then Morshower's eyes hardened slightly.

"If it comes to that, take him down. I don't care what that thing in his head says. He wouldn't want to be used as a weapon against us."

Another small nod from the Prime at his side, and even if Morshower hadn't expected his alien ally to object, he was still relieved. Experience recognised experience but sometimes you could still misjudge people.

"He already asked Ironhide for the same promise himself," Optimus Prime said quietly. "It will be honoured."

_Good kid,_ Morshower said silently and ignored the faint twinge of regret that accompanied it. War was brutal, war demanded sacrifices, and their side lost entirely too many people for every one of the enemy they took down. He felt the loss of all of them, whatever rank or nationality they had been, whatever planet they might have come from, but some struck closer to home than others. A lot of them had been little more than names and faces and a few exchanged words at the most – he hadn't been the one to recruit most of them, after all – but some he knew well; knew their personality and skills and families and grieved them as the friends they had been.

_And speaking of which..._

"His wife seems to be adapting. Better than I would have, that's for sure."

Sarah, she had once insisted he called her but he didn't think he had that right anymore, not with the kind of order he had just given regarding her husband.

"Humanity is a remarkably adaptable species," Optimus Prime agreed quietly. "That is especially true of the younger ones of the kind. "

"Like the Witwicky kid," Morshower snorted softly. "I doubt I would have gotten into that alien car on a whim, friendly or otherwise, never mind the rest of the stuff he's pulled off."

There was a soft sound of what Morshower could almost imagine was humour, and then that suspicion was confirmed when the towering alien spoke and he could all but hear the smile in its voice. "You underestimate yourself, General."

"Let's call it common sense instead," the human responded dryly. "I may not be a pencil pusher but I'm still an old fart and I'll leave the recklessness to the young and stupid. Let the kids handle the world-saving. I'm too old for that."

Amusement again. "For someone a mere half a century old, you do sound remarkably like Ironhide at times."

"He's got a point sometimes." A pause. "And I could use his cannons, but taking pot shots at Galloway and his breed would just make our headache that much worse. We'll keep an eye on the 'Cons and keep you updated, Prime. Give the word and you'll have back-up, too. Wings or not, he's still one of my boys and I'm not letting Big and Ugly get his paws on him if I can stop it."

"It would be appreciated," Optimus Prime responded quietly.

Morshower nodded and sure, he knew that they could manage just fine without human help, and sure, he knew that there were forces within more than a few governments who would rather see those aliens, good or bad, get the heck off of the planet, but that didn't particularly matter to him. It was a show of support as much as anything, added firepower in a battle that could turn nastier than usual at the drop of a hat, if intel was anything to go by, and if that meant sending his boys into a trap, then he would do that. He suspected they would do it with or without his blessing, anyway, and that meant it was easier just to have the legal side of it in order.

Silence fell as they simply watched the air acrobatics again, two leaders dealing with the kind of situation that neither of them had probably ever expected, and Morshower didn't even mind that. He had days of doubts, times when he wondered just what he thought he was doing, but when it all came down to it, this was what he wanted, what he had chosen and what he had stuck with.

The NEST boys would take on hostile, alien war machines on his words, and if he couldn't be out there helping them, he would damn well make sure they had the best back-up he could supply them with.

And for now, that would have to be enough.


	21. Chapter 18

**A/N:** I have no idea of where the last third of the chapter came from but Will and Ratchet turned out to be chatty this time around, so there we go. Thank you to my beloved beta for not groaning at getting 6k words dumped on her for a read-through *cough*

* * *

He could feel Ironhide in the back of his mind. It wasn't the result of an actual scan, not something his processors had done on routine, but rather a strange way his spark simply _knew_ where Ironhide was in a way it hadn't before. He would be able to pick up the mech's emotions if he didn't shield them, he knew, would be able to talk across the bond with half-words and half-thoughts, but the ability to pick out his location on the island was something new and interesting and Will was never, ever going to admit that half of his current air acrobatics were aimed solely at seeing _how_ that knowledge of Ironhide's presence responded as he moved.

Half an hour and several death-defying turns later, he came to the conclusion that it didn't respond at all. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he pushed himself, it was still there, still constant, still adjusting instantly as either of them moved. He had wondered for a moment just how badly it was going to frag up his focus when the two of them ended up in the middle of a combat situation, but another fifteen minutes of copying every single way of shielding a bond that he had learned about in the past few weeks had finally managed to mute that presence almost completely. It came right back the moment he lost focus, of course, but it still meant that it was possible to block and that was one problem less to deal with.

He had almost contacted Ironhide to ask him about it but had changed his mind and kept their bond shielded at the last moment. Neither Ironhide nor Ratchet had ever mentioned it, which meant that it was probably a Seeker thing... and Ratchet had never said if he'd had anything more than casual relationships with those things.

William Lennox still figured the Seeker companion in his processors had the brains and daunting self-restraint of a pigeon for the most part but it was still a Seeker... and since this was Seeker business, it also meant it was only reasonable to ask it about the whole thing. If nothing else, Will decided, it was a nice little sign of cooperation before he headed off to ask Ratchet instead.

_So?_ he asked and tempered the word with the curiosity that he didn't even try to hide.

They turned to follow the edge of Diego Garcia's airspace in a lazy arch, still with the curious knowledge of Ironhide's presence, and he got the mental feeling of a shrug from his companion-in-processors.

_Mine,_ it replied like it was the most logical thing in the world. _Ours. Mate. We shield. Mates protect._

And protecting your mate was a whole lot easier when you knew where said mate was even if someone decided to fry your gear with an EMP... even if he got the clear impression that those kinds of situations weren't all the Seeker had in mind.

_You can't go shoot someone just because they like someone you want,_ he said, exasperated, and the Seeker offered a clear feeling of annoyance in return_._

_Mate. **Mine**._

A sharp turn, the Seeker making its annoyance clear, or Will doing it, and neither was really sure anymore-

_We had a make-out session! It wasn't a fragging marriage proposal!_

- and every time he finally thought the whole thing was starting to make sense, something else showed up to remind him that whatever else the Seeker might be, 'smart' and 'reasonable' weren't high on the list.

"Fragging bird-brain," he bit out and didn't realise that his more or less permanent communications channel with Ratchet – for reasons of likely future stupidity, the medic had explained – was active until the mech actually responded.

"Is there a problem?"

He was halfway tempted to say something not very polite about the other half of his schizophrenic processors, because they really didn't think he was unreliable enough as it was, did they, but he settled for a sigh instead.

"Seeker issues. Minor stuff, it's nothing. Sorry for disturbing you, sir."

He almost expected Ratchet to press the issue but the medic apparently saw it as his duty to keep Will on his toes because he changed the topic easily and let Will have his bitchings to himself.

"You didn't. I was about to contact you myself to see how you were doing after your...playtime with Ironhide," the medic explained dryly. "The world can look very different once the post-overload haze wears off... even if there was never an overload involved in the first place. How are you handling it, Will?"

How was he handling it? Will paused and realised with some surprise that he hadn't even considered that question until Ratchet brought it up. True, the pleasurable haze had faded a while back, but...

"I'm not going to freak out, if that's what you're asking," Will responded cautiously. "It was me as much as the Seeker out there with 'Hide. I could have said no if I didn't want it and I would have, too, if that had been the case. I had fun, Ratchet. I wouldn't mind having fun again. It's weird from a human perspective and I'm sure I'd be freaking out if I didn't have bird-brain in my processors, too, but it's not like 'Hide threw me on the ground to have his way with me. I'm dealing with it. I'm enjoying myself. The Seeker might've decided one make-out session makes a mate but that doesn't mean I just have to go along with that, either. You put the fear of Primus into it. We're getting along a lot better than I ever thought we would."

"And how do you feel about him, then?" Ratchet asked and Will got the sudden and very, very unwanted mental image of a robot Dr. Phil. Then again, given what sort of mechs that made up Optimus Prime's first contact team... a robot shrink would probably be pretty high on the wishlist. And Ratchet had probably learned the hard way, too, that sometimes people and problems were just easier dealt with before they became a real headache.

There was sky and there was water and there was island and Will settled for a mostly-even course to focus a little more on Ratchet.

"He's my friend. He's a giant robot, Ratchet. What do you want me to say? I admire him for the sort of things he's gone through and survived. I admire him for the fact that he's still sane and able to function with the rest of you after that long on the front lines. He's got my back in battle and I've got his. He's attractive to a Seeker, he's interesting to me, and I liked playing rough with him on the tarmac a lot more than I probably should, considering that I'm still technically married. I know it's how things are and I know it's probably the Seeker affecting me some of the time to help me deal with it all, but that's okay, too. He's a friend, Ratchet. He's attractive. It doesn't mean I'm going to show up with an uprooted rosebush to tell him I love him."

"Rosebush aside," Ratchet pointed out, "that might not be your fault, and it's very likely that might never change. Things are... different to Seekers in quite a few ways."

A flicker of something from the Seeker – guilt, agreement, indifference, but no objection at all, and if he had still been human, his eyes would have narrowed.

"In English, Ratchet. Preferable in nice little one-syllable words this grunt can understand."

A slight adjustment of the course, following air-currents in a way that was second nature by now, and he could almost hear the medic wonder how to approach the subject... and the longer he waited, the more Will could feel himself tense, waiting for whatever bad news that was about to be dropped on him.

"Cybertronian was the main language spoken on Cybertron," Ratchet finally began, and damn it if he didn't sound vaguely cautious and it only served to confirm Will's worry. "We switch between Cybertronian and Earth languages on this planet – Cybertronian and English for the most part – but the human part of your processors instantly translates that Cybertronian into English, with English idioms and English counterparts to Cybertronian words whenever possible. We have dialects, of course – the Decepticon and Autobot dialects have subtle but important differences – but for the most part, all of us spoke Cybertronian as our main language. Seekers, the exception to the rule, spoke it as their second one. They had their own language which they all but stopped using as the War claimed an ever-increasing number of lives. Stopped using it, Will. It didn't die. That language is a part of Seeker programming, of your very personality, and if you encountered it or thought about it, you will understand enough to make some sense of it... with some exceptions. There were a lot of cultural aspects to the words that only came from experience with their world and that experience, I'm afraid, is something neither you nor that Seeker has. The language itself is programmed but the cultural aspect was learned, and there are precious few left to learn it from these days."

A curious thought directed at the Seeker in his mind and strange symbols flashed through his processors and became knowledge a moment later; alien and unnerving and comforting and still strangely familiar in a way that sent a shiver through his mind.

"It's more than a language, isn't it?"

"It is part of a Seeker's personality. It is who you _are_, Will. The language of Seekers shares no similarities with Cybertronian and reflects the differences between those two kinds of beings as well. Cybertronian has terms your human mind would translate as 'love'. The Seekers' language doesn't. Seeker programming does not comprehend love as a human or Cybertronian might express it so their language _has_ no term for it. You may speak Cybertronian but your core programming is that of a Seeker, with a Seeker's world-view, and that will carry over in your Cybertronian as well. Your human brain might comprehend human love but your Seeker one won't – and your Seeker one, I suspect, is the one that carries the most of your attraction to Ironhide."

"So even if I showed up with a rosebush, I wouldn't be able to claim I loved him... because I'm not programmed with the right word for that?" Because Seekers didn't know the concept? Because they were too selfish, too dominant, too possessive, too brutal, too- "I assume there's a reason for that?" Will continued, as calmly and quietly as he could as he pushed that train of thought aside. "I love Sarah. I love Annabelle. A new language won't change that."

"And it shouldn't," Ratchet agreed, just as calmly and quietly. "There is no Seeker word for the human or Cybertronian concept of love, but they have other concepts that express the importance of someone with all the more intensity. Ask your flighty companion to define Annabelle to you."

The human part bristled for a moment at that – like he needed to _define_ what his daughter was! - and then it calmed down again as he forced that thought aside, let sub-routines handle their flight, and focused on the Seeker instead.

Hesitation, curiosity, flickering through memories that even Will had forgotten he had; idle thoughts as he watched a photo of his daughter, laughter and baby clothes and fear and the fierce determination to protect her from anything, and-

_Kin,_ the Seeker said with finality and let the strange symbol impress itself on his processors even as his mind translated the equally strange and eerily familiar sound that accompanied it.

"_Kin,_" he repeated softly and heard the Seeker echo the word through the communications channel. "She's _kin._"

"In that exact tone of voice? Then that is all any Seeker would need to know," Ratchet replied. "There are very few shades of grey in their world, Will. Most things to them are black or white, trusted or untrusted, friend or foe. _Kin_ is broad concept – you care about all of your kin to some degree, but the way you say it makes all the difference in the world to them. Your voice, the movements of your wings, your actions, the emotions across a bond. _Kin_ as you just spoke it would be all one of their kind – your kind – would need to hear to understand the depth of your feelings for her. It marks her as one of your family, whatever her species or origin or loyalty. It would tell any Seeker listening that you would kill for her, die for her, and tear planets apart if even a thought of harm would ever cross her shadow. She is not a mate or bonded but related to you through choice and heritage and that makes her a part of your being."

The channel fell silent as Will considered that and the Seeker waited just as silently for his reaction, and Will could find nothing to argue about in it. He didn't _like_ the language – it was entirely alien to his human mind and the way that part of it still rang so true was more than a bit unnerving – but he could deal with that, too, and he could appreciate the depth of the Seeker's emotions for his daughter even if the term it used was less than impressive to human ears.

_And Sarah?_ he asked silently and this time the pause was a lot longer and it wasn't just the flickers of memories, either. Uncertain, bewildered, hesitant, and then-

_Mate,_ it finally responded slowly and then again with more conviction. _Mate. Mine. **Ours.**_

"Will?" Ratchet's voice tore Will back to reality before he got the chance to poke the Seeker about its reaction and he heard the unspoken question clearly.

"_Mate._ It called Sarah _mate._"

Sudden, sharp emotions – not his, not the Seeker's, faint but _there_ – and then they were gone and Ratchet snapped out a sharp, angry "No!" before he descended into a rapid-fire rant in that distinctive Seeker language that Will only caught fragments of, in between the medic's accent and the Seeker's sudden anger and his own unfamiliarity with it all.

"_-organic--- irresponsible pest of--- no right of claim, you ground-bound spawn of a--- shared-spark, and this is not-_"

"_**Mine**_," the Seeker snarled back through Will's voice – and Primus, he had forgotten how horrifying it felt to have it take over and hear himself and have no control of what happened – and then the feeling was gone as the Seeker retreated to sulk and Ratchet fired off one last incomprehensible sound that probably wasn't a compliment.

Tense silence followed as neither seemed willing to say a word to the third party in their little argument, and then Will sighed even as he adjusted their course to swing back towards the island base again.

"Ratchet?"

The Seeker was still sulking in the back of his mind but the medic seemed ready to talk, at least, as he sighed and gave Will the clear impression that if he had been human, he would have rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I keep forgetting how much of a pain in the afterburner young Seekers can be. A linguistic lesson, Will: Seekers have fundamentally three terms for beings that are important to them – kin, bonded, and mate. You know the language but you don't have the cultural experience to understand the words right and it's too basic a part of your companion there for it to be very likely to explain what little it does know properly to you. You are already familiar with kin. To call a mech your bonded would mean that it was someone you had a bond with – Ironhide, for example, in your case. Bonded does not necessarily imply anything more than friendship. It can be between brothers in arms as easily as it can be between lovers. With other species, the definition becomes even broader – Samuel and Bumblebee are not able to talk through a bond the way you do with Ironhide but any Seeker would consider them bonded, anyway. Samuel is Bumblebee's human bonded, much in the way Sarah is yours."

"Except it didn't call Sarah its bonded," Will pointed out and ignored the brief flare of anger from the bird-brain in question. "It called her _mate._"

"Which would imply what humans would refer to as... as romantic relations." Ratchet made a frustrated sound and continued before Will had the chance to even _think_ about that one, and the Seeker snarled right back at him mentally. "Even ignoring the sheer physical impossibility of it all, Seekers are _possessive_. No Seeker would permit a pitiful inferior to ever touch one of its mates and every single human being on this entire _planet_ would fall into that category! You can't claim her as a mate, you worthless piece of scrap – you cannot possibly feel it's fair to her to expect her to have no non-platonic human relationships again for the rest of her existence, under the likely penalty of death to her suitor. That is not how Earth relationships work!"

If he hadn't already been questioning his sanity, being chewed out by proxy for something the voice in his head had said would definitely have made him start doing it. As it was, he simply directed a bemused feeling in the direction of the Seeker and kept from snorting at the snarl it offered it return.

"It's ignoring you now," he informed Ratchet.

"_Seekers!_" The medic made the word sound like an insult and Will couldn't really argue with that. The thing meant it well, he could feel that much. It liked Sarah, it cared for her, it would protect her, but he couldn't exactly expect her to put up with their bizarre new situation for the rest of her life, and that wasn't even getting into the fact that the thing left no doubt at all that any human male who as much as dared to approach her would face the wrath of a territorial bird-brain with enough weapons to make a minor army think twice about attacking.

"Can't we... I mean, it had its sight set on Optimus for a mate, too, but we managed to reach a compromise. If not..." He paused and sighed. "Its sense of time isn't exactly Earth-based. If she moved away, too far away for any casual visits, it wouldn't bother her that much. It would show up sometimes but maybe only every decade or so. It doesn't think about how fast humans age. If she was somewhere away from it and didn't get into any trouble, it would go on with its own business and only show up to see her when it remembered. She could make it work. It'd be a lot easier if the Seeker hadn't gotten involved in the first place, but..."

"But we can't change that," Ratchet agreed and sighed as well. "It is an option but I would rather it didn't come to that. Talk to it, try to make it see sense. Seekers are rather stubborn once they have made their choices but it is not impossible to make them reconsider."

By force if necessary, Ratchet didn't need to add, because Will knew that perfectly fine. Sure, Megatron clearly had some problems keeping Starscream in line, even with those methods, but his Seeker wasn't-

_Aw, slag,_ he realised a moment later as memories flooded back, a talk with Ironhide and comments about the Air Commander, and the Seeker in the back of his mind stayed uncomfortably silent about it all.

"Can they change their minds about kin, too?" Because he wasn't enough of a flying disaster zone as it was, was he, and _slag it._ "The Seeker called him _kin,_" Will continued with a groan. "It was after the first time we talked with him. It didn't sound like it did with Annabelle but it still sounded kind of serious. I didn't know what it meant at the time, just that it was annoyed when 'Hide made some choice comments about Starscream. Frag it all to the _Pit._"

He had halfway expected Ratchet to order him on the ground immediately but all he got was a second of silence before the medic continued in a perfectly calm voice that made Will desperately wish he had a visual and body language to go with the audio. "And the second time you talked with him? You did insult him a few times yourself on that occasion."

Will considered it for a moment and ignored the uneasy feelings from the Seeker at that line of questioning. "It was shocked more than anything but it backed me once we decided that this was where we belonged and he could go frag himself."

"You should be fine, then." There wasn't even a bit of hesitation in Ratchet's voice and Will blinked. "No, we won't ground you. I know you were about to ask. It is programming, nothing more. Starscream is the Air Commander. Opposite factions or not, he is in theory the commander of _all _Seekers, not merely the Decepticon ones. It is part of any Seeker's programming to consider the leader of the first-among-trines their kin and submit to his orders. It becomes easier to ignore with age but it will always be part of your programming. How do you think Megatron managed to turn the vast majority of them to his cause?"

"Because they're arrogant, self-absorbed, and violent?" Will guessed. "They're pretty much a flying list of Decepticon virtues."

"So were the Autobot Seekers for the most part," Ratchet replied. "And there were Autobot commanders who would gladly have accommodated those Decepticon traits. The ones you have met are the survivors, Will. They have lasted through near-endless war. The weaker ones died and the stronger ones adapted. There were different levels of Decepticon-like behaviour in them before the war. They had different personalities, like we all do. If they had all made an independent choice, we would still not have had the same number of them as Megatron but he would still have had less of an overwhelming advantage. He used those lines of kinship. He won over the key figures among the Seekers and the rest followed. When he claimed the loyalty of the first-among-trines, he also gained the vast majority of the ones that considered that trine to be kin or mates or bonded... and with them followed _their_ kin and mates and bonded, line after line, until he had their complete loyalty. The step from neutral to Decepticon like the rest of your kin is a lot easier to take than from neutral or Decepticon and to Autobot when you leave everyone you care about behind."

Will blinked. The words made perfect sense in his processors, an utterly perfect _rightness_ to them – they were kin and you were _loyal_ to kin – and the Seeker part of him murmured its silent agreement.

"So the Autobot Seekers..." He trailed off, not sure how to put it, but Ratchet clearly saw where his train of thought was heading.

"... Were the more unusual ones of the breed, yes," the medic agreed. "Some had very little kin that mattered. Some were mated to a ground-bound mech that had allied itself with the Autobot cause. Some felt more strongly about the cause than about Seeker ties. You have strong ties to us as well as to your human family and friends. In this case, far stronger than the Seeker programming that deals with Starscream. You are not a true Seeker, Will. Yes, your programming tells you to be loyal to your true kin, to fight for them and protect them if needed, but the human side has something to say as well. Annabelle is considered kin by both of you. Starscream is considered kin solely by your basic Seeker programming, and distant kin at that. I would doubt that the Seeker part of you would readily submit to him after your show of defiance."

It should have been comforting but there was something in the words that kept eluding Will, something that nagged at the edge of his awareness even as he spared as much attention as he could from flying, something that-

_Submit,_ he realised._ He didn't say we wouldn't have a problem fighting the fragger. He said that he doubted we would readily submit._

"There's a long way from not submitting and to actively fighting, Ratchet," he pointed out. "If we went up against them tomorrow, would I be able to fire at them? Physically attack them?"

"You would have to overcome that part of your programming the first time," Ratchet replied, "but it would become easier every time. In a combat situation, it would not take long to be able to do without interference from those lines of code that claim them as kin."

Not as good as Will had hoped for but a lot better than it could have been, at least, and he didn't want to ask his second question but he needed to know, and he needed to know before it was a life and death situation.

"Would I be able to kill them?"

This time it took a moment longer for the medic to answer and Will could slagging well recognise a diversion when he saw it. "You would need far more training to hold your own against-"

"That wasn't what I asked and you know it," he interrupted quietly. "Would I be able to kill them, Ratchet? Would I be able to pull the trigger at point blank?"

And the beat of silence gave him all the response he needed, even as Ratchet spoke that moment later.

"To protect a mate or bonded or close kin," he said and confirmed the sinking feeling in Will's processors. "You couldn't do it unprovoked. Thundercracker or Skywarp, yes, perhaps, but not Starscream. You are not a real Seeker, so there will always be that element of uncertainty, but you have too much Seeker programming to make it much more than a theoretic uncertainty. You could fight back in a combat situation, yes. Cover fire? Self-defence? Yes. Deliberately shoot to kill? No. In a hundred battles, in a thousand... perhaps, but not now."

_Slag._

The world spun; real or imagined, it didn't matter, and engines roared as he focused the flood of emotions on flying, fear and anger and dread and blind panic turned into heat turned into energy turned into _flight-_

- And Ratchet stayed silent as Will sent them into a dizzying plunge, nearly striking sea before he turned and spun and headed straight up, nothing more than a blurry grey arrow to the people watching below as Mach one turned to Mach two and inched further upwards.

Seconds stretched to a minute, then two, and finally he broke the silence.

"When did you plan to tell me?"

"As late as I possibly could," Ratchet answered and they both knew he wasn't just talking about Starscream. "Be honest to yourself, William. If I had told you this – all of it – when you had first woken up, you would have done your best to offline yourself. That or defected when the Seeker panicked enough to take over and seek Starscream's aid."

There was no reason to argue because Will knew damn well there was nothing to argue against. Waking up in an alien body and being told that you weren't human anymore, that the odds were you would defect and turn 'Con, that even as an Autobot you would be as much of a danger to your allies as to your enemies, that any moment of weakness could bring you to your knees at Starscream's feet-

He cut his engines and turned in free-fall and the flare of panic from the Seeker was pushed aside as the world shifted around them and then became the spinning blue and green and white of Diego Garcia and the Indian Ocean as they shot straight down.

"What's to stop me from trying now?" Will bit out as mental calculations fluttered through his processors – Mach one, Mach two, Mach--- "Even you can't fix what's left after an impact at Mach three."

"I can't," Ratchet admitted quietly, "but you won't. You will pull up because that Seeker is innocent. Whatever else you might be, William Lennox, a cold-blooded murderer is not it, and that Seeker you share your processors with was never given a choice in this matter. You will pull up because your bond with Ironhide is too strong to break without consequences and because you will not abandon your wife when she still loves you. You are too much of a Seeker now, William... or perhaps just enough. When you first woke up, we had no way to know for certain how much Seeker programming you had been given. To explain those possibilities to you would have sent you into panic at best, and over something that might not ever have come to pass. Now you adjust instead, because you have enough of the Seeker's traits in you to handle this with a somewhat level head. Perhaps not gracefully, perhaps not willing, but you will not offline yourself. You think too clearly for that, even now."

The world spun; blue and green and white, and with a sickening lurch twin engines kicked in again and turned the view from sea and to sky again and he tried not to notice the almost panicked relief of the Seeker in his mind.

_I'm sorry,_ he whispered and meant it.

_Trine-mates,_ it murmured in response and fell silent again in the back of his processors and he was surprised to find that he understood. You trusted trine-mates and you were loyal to trine-mates. Come what may, you were loyal to trine-mates – into battle, into war, and into the Pit itself if needed.

"What else did you forget to tell us?" he asked quietly as his course levelled out again and the surge of emotions in his systems evened out with it as well.

"Some things that matter. Some things that don't," Ratchet responded just as quietly. "A Seeker would have been raised by Seekers. I understand their language and their culture to a degree but I was always an outsider looking in. I can teach you what I know but I will never have the same understanding of their culture as a born Seeker with Seeker programming, who grew up in their world. Even Megatron's command trine likely doesn't, these days. Seekers are focused on family. They were, essentially, one immense flock of metal birds, connected in trines and kin and mates and bonded. There are, perhaps, a few dozen of them these days. It was never a natural state of the world to them and they all know it, those few remaining ones. They are Seekers but they have been without their large circles of kin since the destruction of Cybertron. They have been without sparklings because war is no place to raise children. They have been without the ability to reach out through their bonds and be surrounded by people they consider family. None of them are sane or stable these days and eventually, in a hundred years or a thousand or ten thousand, that will be your fate as well if your kind remains on the brink of extinction. What is left of their culture is their programming and bits and pieces of what they once were. You will be unable to kill Starscream unprovoked, but that programming goes both ways. All Seekers are kin to their leader in the way he is kin to all of them. Your natural place would be with your kin and until Starscream sees indisputable proof that you are not kept here by force or by manipulation, he will see you as a misguided youngling that needs saved. He always considered most Seekers to be pathetic wastes of resources but he still put them far above mere ground-pounders because even Starscream can't deny his programming completely. He is the supreme Air Commander of all Seekers and until you turn against him, he will see you as kin."

They were silent, Will and the Seeker both, and he couldn't even blame Ratchet for not saying anything about it before. It was too much, too soon, and he had never asked for it. He could have lived the rest of his life perfectly fine without ever knowing any of it and if he ever got his hands on Primus, he would gladly see if the God of the Cybertronians was worth anything in down and dirty black-ops fighting.

Seekers needed family, Seekers needed kin and trusted ones around them, and the slagger had brought them back as one of the last members of a near-extinct species to... what? Repopulate the whole fragging lot of long-dead Cybertron single-handedly, or die in battle, or feel that basic programming tear on them until they went the way of Starscream and Skywarp and Thundercracker – borderline insane and probably aware of it, too, and unable to do a slagging thing about it?

He shuddered, felt the tiny motion from his core and to the very tips of his wings, and then he finally refocused on the still-open communications channel.

"I can't deal with this, Ratchet. It's too much."

"You may not have a choice. The Decepticons are mobilising and they are obvious about it. They wish to make sure we know they will put in their full forces and in return force us to do the same... and in doing so, either leave you undefended here or bring you into battle with us."

"Ratchet..."

"I did not want to tell you now," Ratchet continued. "Perhaps never, but I was not given a choice. You needed to know before you encountered them in person, and you needed time to come to terms with it, too. This is as long as we can afford to wait."

"I need..." he trailed off and fell silent and the soothing murmurs from the Seeker were worried and confused and it took the edge off the sudden panic and that small gesture was a blessing now.

He needed more time, maybe, or more information, or less, and the shudder brushed his wing-tips again and finally Ratchet spoke.

"Fly," he said quietly. "I will be here."

No further words were exchanged but as Mach two edged towards Mach three again and the world became nothing more than speed and cold and the roar of engines, that silent channel stayed open in unspoken support and for now, that was enough.


	22. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I considered removing the 'humour' bit from the FFNet category on this little fic what with the more serious chapters and all (even if it's still written very firmly tongue-in-cheek and Will's favourite way of coping will keep being snark and a mental running commentary, Seeker issues be damned) but the beta vetoed it rather firmly. Don't cross your beta, man. The betas reign supreme.

* * *

Jolt had the personal theory that the entirety of planet Earth was bonkers. A human term, that one. Cybertronian, for all of its creative insults, didn't hold a candle to the endless variety of the human languages when it came to terms for insanity – and that really didn't help the planet's case at all. The fact that they needed that many terms in the first place only cemented his theory that the planet was completely and utterly mad and that the dominant species that inhabited it really wasn't any different from the planet that had created them in the first place.

And he meant it, too, he had told Bumblebee emphatically on more than one occasion. Not just society, not just the people living in this new organic world, but the very planet itself. Cybertron had been nice and orderly and predictable – which was half the reason _why_ Jolt had enjoyed pranking so much, because he knew what he was dealing with and he knew every single electrical disturbance or oddity of the surface or whatever else he might use to have a bit of fun – but planet Earth was completely and utterly schizophrenic, from its weather and to its oceans and plate tectonics and sheer _randomness_ of it all sometimes.

Jolt wasn't the most religious of mechs but he knew his creation stories and if Cybertron's calm and steady predictability was a sign of Primus' state of mind – being, after all, the planet itself as their legends told him – then planet Earth made him wonder just what sort of strange deity had been behind the organic world, and it was no slagging wonder that their new home had so many different religions, then. On Cybertron, Jolt could prank and know he would end up having a laugh at someone else's expense. On Earth, he got the distinct impression that half the time he tried to prank someone, the planet messed it up on purpose to have a laugh at his expense instead.

Some days, he really suspected that humanity was in on it as well. He knew from experience that special forces of any kind tended to be interesting types and yes, he did expect that anyone that small and squishy who was still willing to pick up a weapon and go after the Decepticons again and again and again probably wasn't standard on the planet, but there was a long way from that and to... well. NEST.

"With Mikaela's assistance and human-sized hands it should not take long to have one of those human crash test dummies turned into a suitable test flight subject for Will," Ratchet commented as he went through a collection of neatly-ordered boxes of small bits and pieces of mostly-Earth origins, and Jolt wasn't above admitting that he was still 'junior' apprentice enough that he only recognised about half of them. Not that he thought those bits or the project were particularly important but it would be good training for him and the small, human femme who frequently hung out in Ratchet's domain, and he knew their medic enough to tell that something about that project mattered to him. The human general had just landed, Optimus Prime was going over intel with their new human NEST commander... and Hurricane Ratchet had descended on the infirmary only minutes earlier and brought out a minor human project that had been added to their lists only because the former Major's NEST team was so enthusiastic about it.

Their medic had been busy lately and Jolt had heard enough from Sideswipe about Seekers that unlike some, he hadn't been that surprised at just how _much_ attention one of those things could demand – and never mind a brand new, just onlined one that happened to have been human before. Ratchet should have plenty of other things to worry about than a small side project like that, but no one really knew what went on in their medic's processors, so Jolt just nodded and listened like a good junior apprentice.

Ratchet had been busy and there had been several days where they hadn't even seen the shadow of him, but what Jolt did hear in between Seeker-related crises only cemented another fact he had long suspected: NEST was bonkers, too.

"They... know that he's a Seeker, right?" he asked dubiously. He hadn't spent that much time among their organic allies but the ones they worked with didn't strike him as being... stupid. Certainly not sane or normal by any definition, but they were quick on their feet and could keep a clear processor in the middle of combat. They didn't strike him as the types to be that... reckless. He understood the human soldiers' fascination with jets, he really did – the design was not objectionable to a Cybertronian – but the fact that their new Seeker _looked_ like one of said jets did in no way mean he behaved like one, too. They knew that, didn't they? They had to. Right?

"I'm fairly certain that listening to the sound barrier being broken consistently right above their heads has given them some idea that he is by no means an ordinary F-22, yes," Ratchet replied. "To call him a 'Seeker' means very little to a human, Jolt. He is a jet to them, even to those aware of the true circumstances. A jet that used to be human and which can fly faster and better than an Earth-based one, but a jet nonetheless."

Sometimes, Jolt was amazed that the human species hadn't just managed to simply... human themselves into extinction, what with the combination of fragility and mental traits they had been created with, but then, he had also seen them in battle and reached the conclusion that the human version of the femme Luck seemed exceedingly fond of them.

Too fond, possibly, if the NEST team's current idea was anything to go by. They were starting to get a bit reckless in their undying trust in her.

"Will they listen when that... test dummy is returned in pieces?" Jolt asked hesitantly. "Seekers like to push the limits. He's not going to play nice. Is that the plan? Get the idea out of their head before they any worse ideas?"

"Or remind him where he belongs," Sideswipe's darker voice remarked from the doorway. "You know he doesn't have the focus to keep a human alive. It's nothing but a way to keep him busy with the humans and remind him of his loyalty."

"Which," Ratchet threw back without missing a beat, "was exactly his reason for asking me to do this. I do not lack work to a degree where I need to make up things to keep from boredom. He was told about the recent Decepticon activity and he considered his choices and felt that being around his former comrades would be the best option now. Training would be useful for whatever the Decepticons plan for him but to do so excessively would only serve to weaken the human side at a time when we cannot afford to do so."

A pause, and Jolt could have sworn he had missed something important because Sideswipe remained in the door as Ratchet levelled a hard look at him, and it couldn't just be because of the 'Vette's comment – he would have chewed him out, then, instead of just... watching him in a way that made Jolt feel more than a bit on edge.

"Being front-liners doesn't mean we're stupid," Sideswipe finally said and his slightly darkened optics said plenty about his mood, even if the hard tone in his voice hadn't been more than enough to get it across on its own. "Did you think Jet Judo was all we knew?"

'We', Jolt knew, had nothing to do with him. Partners in crime and combat or not, 'we' had always meant Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Always had, always would, until all was one and beyond. That they didn't know Sunstreaker's current location or even if he was still online didn't matter. It was 'we', Jolt knew. Always 'we', and Jolt was just the stand-in until time reunited them.

Sharp optics turned to Jolt instead and he instinctively straightened under his CMO's attention. "Jolt-"

"-Is staying," Sideswipe said flatly. "I'll tell him and to the Pit with any orders. If he's going into a combat zone with an allied Seeker and have my back, he needs to know what he'll have to deal with. He's staying."

Stuck between the unstoppable force and the immovable object, Jolt did the only reasonable thing he could do – he ducked his head and hoped they would forget about him and that he wouldn't end up in the resulting disaster zone, because front-liner or not, he still knew better than to be in the middle of an argument between Ratchet and Sideswipe.

"Key word being 'allied', Sideswipe," Ratchet said in the low, dangerous voice that was usually reserved for people getting between the medic and a patient... and a moment later Jolt realised that Sideswipe probably _was._ Sideswipe didn't look happy about the situation at all – and Jolt couldn't really blame him after what happened in the training match – and Ratchet...

_Don't cross the medic!_ Jolt gestured with frantic little motions as Ratchet's attention turned back to the 'Vette, because Ratchet was a medic and could probably _hear_ if Jolt commed his partner... and Sideswipe, being Sideswipe, ignored it completely and it was all Jolt could do not to whimper in a very human fashion as his partner replied.

"For now. I told you, Hatchet – we're not stupid," Sideswipe said, as low and dangerous and unrelenting as the medic's voice had been as he refused to back down. "I know the flying frags. You don't survive Jet Judo if you don't know what you're dealing with."

Silence stretched for long second as Jolt watched the two combatants and stayed very, very still and then something flared in Ratchet's optics.

"Talk," he commanded, and even Sideswipe wouldn't disobey that voice.

"You know them, Ratchet. You know too much about the fraggers not to have lived with them. They're a hive mind and they're Decepticons to the core of their programming."

"Some have been Autobots," Ratchet bit back and not for the first time, Jolt wondered how in the name of all that was holy Sideswipe had ever managed to survive for so long, picking fights with mechs like that. "They have independent thought."

"You've never faced them in battle like we have. You never deal with just one Seeker there. They know where their trine-mates are without communicating. They move like one spark. They think as one and they obey their Air Commander." He laughed, harsh and mocking and in a way he would never, ever have done when Sunstreaker had been at his side. "Some of them hate Starscream. Some of them want him dead and would be _happy_ to tear out his spark with their own hands but they never do, Ratchet. It's hard-wired in their processors to obey. The only ones who ever seriously tried to kill him were all ours and they were always fragged up slaggers, even for Seekers. We don't know them like you do, we're not medics, but we know enough."

"Enough to know how a half-human Seeker is going to react?" Ratchet asked and reminded Jolt that no one did burning, acidic sarcasm like Ratchet in a bad mood. "Considering that there has never been a recorded case of one before, I'm impressed, Sideswipe, truly, I am. Do tell us about your stunning medical insights. I would recommend a thesis on this, perhaps even a complete scientific survey of the implications of an organic-mechanoid personality merge, but I'm afraid there are no Cybertronian peer-reviewed publications available these days, so I suppose you will have to make due with us as your enchanted audience."

Something about his tone made Sideswipe stand down slightly – the genuine anger, probably, at Jolt's best guess, because while their CMO might snarl at them for their stupidity, he was rarely genuinely angry – and his voice and stance had lost a bit of the hard challenge they carried before as he made a sound that could almost have been interpreted as frustration.

"I know you like him, medic. He wasn't bad for an organic. They're a useless species as a whole but there are some that have stood by us in battle. I respect that," Sideswipe allowed and then his optics glowed harder again. "It doesn't change the situation. He might still be part human, but he talks, acts, and flies like a Seeker. He's Starscream's."

"He defied him," Ratchet said flatly. "Twice."

"On a comm-channel, with Starscream halfway across this dirtball," Sideswipe gave back, every bit as flat and relentless. "We'll face them in combat and he'll cave. I know it, he knows it, and the flying glitch of an Air Commander fragging well knows it, too. He's a warrior. If he thought he had any chance of resisting this, he would have spent every moment out of recharge training. The fact that he doesn't tells me everything I need to know."

Jolt had the feeling that he was missing about half the conversation and every actual useful bit of knowledge it revolved around but that was one piece of logic he could follow after fighting and training at Sideswipe's side for as long as he had. If the human thought he could stand his ground, he would have trained so he would be better in combat. If he didn't... then every bit of improvement would mean more skill in the hands of the 'Cons and make it that much harder when they had to take him down. The former Major had asked Ratchet to focus on an insignificant, little project that put him in contact with humans a lot. Out of all the things to do, he had asked for... that.

_Oh._

Silence stretched again, if less tense this time, and then Ratchet gave a tired sigh. "You know about their coding." It wasn't a question but Sideswipe nodded, anyway, and Ratchet continued. "In that case, I find it remarkable that you haven't brought it up before."

"You've never made us doubt you before," Sideswipe finally said and Jolt felt the tension in the room slowly, slowly begin to return to normal levels again with no small amount of relief. "If you thought it was a danger, you'd have acted on it. You haven't, so you trust him."

"And you don't," Ratchet pointed out.

Another long, uncomfortable moment of silence, and what with the amount of time Jolt had spent around Sideswipe, he should probably have gotten used to it already.

"You're the medic." That response meant little to Jolt but it obviously made more sense to Ratchet, because said medic relaxed almost imperceptibly at that. "You're getting too close to him but you would have stepped in if that thing was a real danger. I say it's a mistake but that doesn't matter. You trust us. We owe you the same in return."

Ratchet would have stepped in, Jolt realised. Ratchet. Not Optimus Prime or Ironhide or whoever else was capable of taking down a Seeker in an emergency, because they weren't medics, either, and so they trusted the medic to let them know if their Seeker was just moody or a genuine threat, and that was just another note on a mental list a mile long of all the things Jolt had learned from Ratchet that left him more than a bit uncomfortable.

It was a lot of trust to place on the shoulders of one lone mech. Ratchet didn't seem to mind but Jolt knew he couldn't claim the same thing himself. One wrong word in an emergency could get someone killed, and that bit of knowledge would keep gnawing on his processors for a long time to come.

"He deserves a chance," Ratchet said, with something in his voice that Jolt couldn't quite identify. "Like a pair of front-liners I used to know."

Sideswipe's smile was toothy. "Twisted, slag-spawned Decepticons in disguise that would get us all violently offlined in combat someday in a killing frenzy? I think I remember those."

"They haven't killed me yet," Ratchet pointed out with a ghost of amusement in his expression as a bit more of his tension drained. "They've been a pain in my aft more times than not but I think I owe them my continued online status a few times over as well."

"Call it even," Sideswipe offered with that same toothy smile, like some long-lost and rather unnerving sibling to Ravage. "It makes up for all the spare parts you've used on them."

And just like that they were back to being reasonably friendly again and Jolt could rest a little more easily where he stood, away from the worst of the disaster zone if it should have come to that.

"I trust him, Sideswipe," Ratchet said quietly. "Even if I didn't, there wouldn't be much we _could_ do. To keep him locked away is something I wouldn't even wish on Starscream. He fought for us as a human. He carries our symbol and sees the world through blue optics. He is aware of the risks; as am I. He deserves a fighting chance."

"One, Hatchet," Sideswipe agreed, and it was as much of a threat as a compromise. "One chance. If he fails, I'll take him down."

"As it should be." A pause, and then Ratchet sighed. "Now go, you pest. I'm busy. Go bother someone else instead."

And Jolt had expected Sideswipe to snarl at that but all the smaller mech did was offer a nod in return before he turned around and left again as silently as he had arrived, leaving one CMO and a very confused junior apprentice and partner in crime in his wake.

As silence continued to reign, Jolt finally worked up the nerve to ask the question that had been nagging him for most of the conversation. "Why do I feel like I missed half of whatever just happened?" he said hesitantly.

Ratchet paused for a moment and his optics dimmed in the way Jolt recognised as someone talking to him over a comm-channel and then the medic focused on him again. "Sideswipe will fill you in, I'm sure," he said dryly and his usual patience around the junior apprentice slowly returned. "In graphic detail, too. I would appreciate it if whatever he tells you makes it no further than the two of you."

He didn't wait for Jolt's answering nod before he grabbed a small, empty box and quickly filled it with what looked to Jolt to be a strange assortment of human-sized doohickeys, a couple of human-sized datapads, and a brand new, shiny test dummy. He paused for fragments of a second, added a few more random-looking bits, pushed the remaining boxes back where they belonged, and then handed the small box with the collection over to Jolt. "Here. Materials and instructions. Mikaela will know what to do. It shouldn't take you much longer than this afternoon. It will be good practice and a decent challenge for her and you are overdue working on human-sized patients. The instructions contain only the basics. In your place, I would have a word with the NEST team in question in regards to their suggestions and see if there are any sane ones among them. A medic needs to know when to listen as well as when to put his foot down. Consider this a good way to practice that without the risk of endangering anything but their... considerable enthusiasm."

Jolt's optics shuttered in a very human display of surprise as he instinctively grasped the small box and tried to wrap his processors around the sudden shift in topic and quick list of instructions. "Sir?"

"Mikaela. NEST. Test flight subject," Ratchet repeated in a voice that left no room for arguments and made Jolt start to suspect to an uncomfortable degree that the small project mattered a lot more to their medic than any of them knew. "I have a Seeker to talk to."

And with that, Hurricane Ratchet left the infirmary as swiftly as he had descended upon it in the first place, leaving only a box of human doohickeys and one very confused junior apprentice medic behind.


	23. Chapter 20

**A/N:** *cough* So. Chapter. I'm not quite happy with all of it but it was either post it now or spend another couple of days hammering my head into the wall while trying to find the right words X.x Which probably wouldn't actually help anything on the chapter, anyway. Alas. So yes! Thank you for reading and sticking with this monster of a fic, and I hope you enjoy!

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Even in retrospect, Will wasn't entirely sure where the idea had come from. He suspected it had actually been his own fault because while the Seeker was more than a bit enthusiastic about the idea of claiming a future mate properly, the possible combat uses of it had never entered its mind, however useful those kinds of things might be. All it had done was share its feelings on mates and kin and bonded when Will had asked, nothing more and nothing less. The resulting conclusions from listening to that... even if it was getting increasing hard sometimes to tell the Seeker side from his human one, Will strongly suspected that it had been his own Pit-spawned military training that had taken that information and run with it in some desperate attempt to find _something_ useful about it... and then shared it with Ratchet, to get a second opinion on it all.

He wasn't sure where the idea had come from, and that was probably as much because the human and the Seeker side had begun to merge as it was a result of the still-lingering, bone-deep dread sparked by Ratchet's words. It had taken a while to calm down enough to get at reasonable grip on himself again and even longer before the medic had been willing to turn his attention from them for long enough to set things in motion in regards to Will's NEST team's curiosity and endless fascination with their new Seeker. It wasn't much of a useful plan, and he knew it, too, but it was something to do, something to distract him and remind him just where he belonged, and more than anything, that was what he needed now. In any other situation, he would have thrown everything he had into training... but not now, not when it felt like everything new he learned, every bit he improved might soon be turned against the people he considered friends and allies, and who'd had his back in combat. Whatever their medic might think, it was still a very real risk, and both Will and the Seeker knew it.

In retrospect, the whole idea had probably been a result of too much to handle in too little time, and desperately grasping for some way to make it all make sense – a bit of stability in the chaos, however much of a stretch it might be. Most likely, the caged feeling of restless apprehension and anticipation of an attack they knew would come sooner rather than later had affected them and sent them on a frantic search of something they could do beyond watch and wait and do nothing... and hope that being around humans once they'd calmed down would be enough to keep them on the right side of things. Apprehension and anticipation and the feeling of being driven forward by instincts he didn't understand, towards something that existed only on the edges on his mind, brought almost into focus by his talk with Ratchet and still impossible to actually get enough of a grasp on to recognise, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe the idea had been there in the back of his processors already and maybe it hadn't and in the end, it didn't really matter when they decided on it as their course of action. The Seeker had held the pieces of information they needed and Will had spent long enough in the military to see the advantages, and that had been it. Not the most romantic reasoning, he would readily admit, but it didn't change the fact that Ironhide was a warrior and would probably understand, and that driving emotion beneath it all had still been a desperate, bone-deep need to keep his guardian-turned-friend-turned-future-mate safe, whatever reasons might have been piled on top. The same instinctive desire to protect was there whenever he thought of Sarah, too, but Sarah was safe, Sarah was sheltered, and Ironhide was the one on the frontlines, drawing fire so someone else didn't have to.

So really, it had been mostly his own faults that had drawn him into what looked like it was going to be a more than a bit uncomfortable talk with Ratchet. All the Seeker had done was offer him that information and let him know that it certainly wouldn't object to those ideas. Will's own fear of ever making Ironhide have to go through with his own promise had been enough to trigger the rest... and his trust in Ratchet had made him pause for long enough to ask for the medic's opinion, knowing perfectly well that the mech would be less than pleased and probably even had enough control of both of them to forcibly stop the idea if it came to that.

Everything considered, life had been a lot easier before he had to deal with Seeker politics and mating instincts and every single mental theory he'd thought up about Primus' grand plans and exactly where the God of the Cybertronians could shove those, too.

He had expected that Ratchet would probably frown more than a little at the idea of a spark-merge with Ironhide but he hadn't expected to be ordered on the ground immediately in a voice that offered no arguments, or to find the medic waiting for him when he landed, clear displeasure radiating from his entire being to a degree that Will could feel it all the way to the core of his spark, and even the Seeker had cringed slightly as they settled on the runway and watched their CMO – warily.

"I thought we were past the period of impulsive stupidity," Ratchet said when it became clear that neither Will nor the Seeker had intentions of making the first move. "Dare I ask which one of you thought up that suggestion in the first place?"

Which was a perfectly justified question, too, and Will sighed.

"The human part," he responded and hoped he was actually telling the truth. "I asked it for a little more information about what I was dealing with but it's not really wired to think about emotional things in that sort of way. Maybe Starscream and the others have learned but this one's too young, Ratchet. I know it sounds like something it could have cooked up but it's not."

It was silent as Ratchet just watched him, like a bug under a microscope – or Ironhide on the training ground, when someone had been particularly stupid with a weapon – and then Will raised his head slightly and continued, determined to at least get the chance to say his piece.

"I got curious. I wanted to know what I'm dealing with and while you're better at explaining it, the Seeker knows things that you don't. Right now, it's confused by where to put 'Hide in its mental little boxes. He's claimed as a mate but since we haven't interfaced, he's not a _proper_ mate yet. It'll still protect him and get jealous and possessive and be a general pain about it but he's not a proper mate until it gets to... claim him, in one way or another," Will explained as he tried to put the feelings he got from the Seeker into words that actually made sense.

Ratchet nodded a sharp agreement but made no move to interrupt and so Will continued.

"That got me curious about mates." He paused, remembered sharp flares of emotions and demands and the hesitant feeling of the Seeker as it tried to explain concepts that had always been a part of it and implicitly understood by its own breed, and then forced it all aside again to focus on Ratchet. "Seekers mate for life, don't they? That's why they stayed neutral for the most part until Megatron claimed Starscream. They mate for life so getting involved in factions and civil war isn't something any Seeker would want because you might end up on the opposite site as a mate."

"For the most part, yes," Ratchet agreed and a bit of the sharp displeasure seemed to drain from him even if he hadn't as much as shifted and Will wasn't sure if he should feel grateful or apprehensive. "There have been mates who left each other but it was never a common choice. Your coding is made to adapt to the mates you choose, to help ensure a successful union for however long to come. Not much, mind you. It is minor changes, much like human relationships require a few compromises at times, but it is enough to write that small bit of your mate into your very coding. To undo a bond like that again is never lightly done, by Seekers or by any other Cybertronian."

Which matched what Will had gotten from the Seeker in emotion-focused little bursts of information and explanation and he nodded in confirmation and forced aside the sudden apprehension he felt. Somehow, saying it out loud was a lot harder than through the comm-link.

"Seekers mate for life," Will repeated, "and no Seeker – or any other Cybertronian, for that matter – would target their mate outside of a life-and-death situation. If it's done with a spark-merge..." He shrugged and tried to make it sound calm, thought-through, _planned,_ and knew he was probably failing miserably. "With a spark-merge, it wouldn't matter if I turned traitor on you. There'd be nothing I could do to target Ironhide. I know the same would be the case for 'Hide with me but it wouldn't matter with Optimus around. He's good enough to take me down."

There. Nice and simple and logical and the Seeker in the back of his mind felt hesitant about it all but couldn't find anything to argue with, either, and Will strongly suspected that it was nothing more than the lack of strong emotions that it didn't feel sure about. It was a mate, after all, and it was supposed to feel passionate about claiming a mate. Not treat it like a military operation. Something nagged, kept nagging, but he pushed it aside – now was not the time and he couldn't afford the distraction, his current restlessness more than enough to handle as it was.

"So of course the logical course of action is to spark-merge with Ironhide on the off chance that Starscream may affect you stronger than we suspect," Ratchet said in a distinct drawl and brought Will right back to boot-camp or strict teachers trying to get an hyperactive nine-year-old under control – and he obviously wasn't the only one, because bird-brain with a lack of actual prior knowledge and memories or not, the Seeker winced right along with him at that. There was something in the back of his mind nagging him about that, something the Seeker was trying to grasp that Will couldn't even begin to put a clawed, metallic finger on, but it was _there_ and it was enough to keep the Seeker distracted even from a conversation as important to the both of them as the current one was.

"Not on the off chance, Ratchet, and you know it. If it was that unlikely, I would have been out there getting my aft kicked in training by Ironhide. I'm not. I'm here with you, and once that test dummy is done, I'll spend time with my old team, too. If any of us thought Starscream would just be a minor little headache, we wouldn't spend this much time cementing my loyalty to this side to the Seeker."

"So of course the logical course of action is to _spark-merge_," Ratchet repeated, and the emphasis the medic put on the last word gave Will the increasingly uncomfortable thought that there was something he was missing. "There are perhaps a handful of mechs still online who are older than Ironhide. He has pitted himself against Seekers – against _Megatron_ – and lived to learn from the experience. He has lived through more battles than most mechs will see in a lifetime and you wish to spark-merge with him because it may improve his safety in some hypothetical future that may not even come to pass?" A pause, just long enough to make sure Will caught the incredulous expression that came with the words, and then he continued. "You _are_ aware that our sparks are our souls?"

"I'm not stupid, Ratchet," Will said quietly. "I know what it means."

"Do you? Do you really, William?" Ratchet demanded. "Your Seeker part is young and inexperienced and despite it all, you are still human at mind. Mere weeks are not enough to adapt to your situation or learn to see the world from a Seeker's perspective, rather than a purely human one. Interfacing, in all its creative varieties, can be as intimate as anything the human species could think of, but you have no equivalent of spark-merging. You can, for that matter, live a perfectly well-adjusted life as a Seeker without ever even entertaining the thought of a spark-merge. A spark-merge would be preferred in a mate but it has never been a requirement for your kind. Pure interfacing could create a more than sufficient claim on a mate to keep your Seeker part content."

"But there'd still be the possibility of me or the Seeker getting so bad under Starscream's influence that we'd go after him, anyway," Will pointed out. "You can't deliberately target someone you're spark-bonded with, I got that much from it."

Ratchet sighed and Will really wasn't sure if it was just his standard reaction to such mind-blowing stupidity that it went beyond what a swift smack to the back of his head would fix, or if it was because they were actually starting to make sense to him, and the Seeker sent him a quick succession of emotions in an attempted explanation – _concern-worry-exasperation-__**fear –**_ and then it was gone again, distracted once more.

"A generalisation made by an inexperienced youngling," the medic said tiredly. "There have been cases of such deliberate incidents between spark-bonded mechs in the past. But yes. It is rare and never without serious consequences to the offender. You would, in essence, destroy the part of your own spark in your bond-mate as well as the bit of your bond-mate's spark that had merged with you. I doubt even Starscream would be capable of such a thing."

"So he'd be safe," Will said quietly. "The Seeker wants this. Sooner or later, it'll want a spark-merge because that's the closest sort of bond you can get. This way it would be my choice. Not Seeker-hormones or excess energy or programming demanding it. Right now I'm as clear-headed as I ever get like this. It's said its piece to me and it's been letting me do the talking now. If 'Hide agrees to this, it'd be most fair to him to do it when he'd know it wasn't just the Seeker pushing things."

It was silent for one second, then two as Ratchet watched them again and this time it was less the feeling of a bug under a microscope and more the close scrutiny of someone who knew that they were serious and looked for any weakness in their words.

"A choice made with no genuine alternatives available is not much of a choice," Ratchet pointed out and Will couldn't help a soft snort at that, very human amusement clear even in his new body.

"I wouldn't say that. I can be fragging _stubborn_ if I want to. You think 'Will' is always a good thing?"

Sure, not much of a choice but with things as they were, Will was reasonably sure he could keep the Seeker from forcing the issue if it came to that and the impression he got from the bird-brain was the same. It wasn't as much a truce as a simple analysis of the choices and consequences that could rise from the situation and he got the clear impression that in the end, the Seeker had understood that a spark-merge without Will's agreement would cause more harm than good to everyone involved... and bird-brain or not, it would not hurt a trine-mate or a potential future spark-mate like that.

"Waiting," Ratchet finally said with a strange gentleness, "can be a curse of the Unmaker, can't it? It leaves you too much time to think and too much time to grow restless before an inevitable attack."

Implied, he wasn't making this decision with a level head and it was nothing more than battle-nerves - understandable, considering the sort of attack they would face and the things that were at stake for both the human and the Seeker - and he might very well regret it all when the dust had settled. And even if he had no idea of _how,_ he got the clear impression that it was a test, an attempt to get him angry and make him confess – and it was working, too, because he could feel his anger rise even as he tried to force it back down.

"That's not why I'm doing it." Will couldn't quite keep the edge of temper from his voice, as much the human side as the Seeker being insulted by it all, and he forced his voice to be calm again. "I know all about waiting and being restless and just wanting the slagheads to attack so you can get it over with. That's not why I'm doing it. I owe him, Ratchet. He's my friend - my kin, my bonded, and my _mate_, and if there's anything I can do to keep him safe if we snap, then I'll _do_ that."

"Mere weeks are hardly enough to make a decision like that," Ratchet pointed out and yes, when he said it like that it did sound like nothing more than restless stupidity, and Will desperately tried to find the right words to explain it all.

"I've known him longer than that."

"Not as a Seeker." Ratchet paused, stared at nothing for a moment and then refocused on them. "If you forced yourself to do this, you could lose control to the Seeker - perhaps permanently - and none of us can afford that now. If you have any doubts at all, any hesitation about this, Ironhide would know, and it could poison the bond beyond repair."

_Bond.  
_  
Something about the word clicked, made the last pieces of the Seeker's puzzle fit together with blinding clarity and brought the nagging feeling into perfect focus, and he spoke before he got the chance to second-guess himself, felt the Seeker's fierce, silent support and the distinct presence of the first, hesitant strands of a bond he hadn't even been consciously aware of until then, and threw everything he had into that one sentence. "Then let me prove it."

And if there had been any doubts, the were gone the instant Will recognised the flicker of surprise for what it was – Ratchet's reaction through a bond that was still too tentative to block completely – and he pushed his advantage before their medic had time to dismiss the idea immediately.

"Bonds don't have to be romantic. Bonds can be between brothers in arms or friends or kin. I trust you. You're our medic and a friend and you've been there for every Pit-spawned bit of slag I've been put through thanks to this." Flickers of emotions, almost too faint to feel at all, but Will latched on to them, anyway, and tried not to wonder what Ratchet felt on the other end of the bond – or Ironhide, for that matter, with the sort of emotions that kept his processors in their grip. "I know you knew about it, because there's no way you didn't, and I'm sure you thought I had enough to deal with, and I appreciate it, but I can handle this, Ratchet. Let me prove it. Please."

It was as close as he got to begging – and he was starting to do that uncomfortably often as a Seeker, come to think of it – and Ratchet's expression revealed nothing but perfect neutrality.

"And if you change your mind? To break a bond is not something done lightly."

"I won't," Will promised quietly. "I trust you, Ratchet. That bond wouldn't have had anything to latch on to if I didn't, and you're too controlled for it to have started from you. I'll understand if you say no, no hard feelings, but don't do it on my account. I never minded the bond with 'Hide. I don't do a very good job shielding it but I'll learn. I like it, it's comforting, and even if the Seeker was the one to complete that one, I wouldn't change it back if I could. It feels right, like it's supposed to be there, and what little I get from yours feels the same way. This isn't the Seeker. It's me. I want this, I trust you, I like you, and you spend enough time as it is keeping an ear on me through the comm-link. This would just make that connection a little easier."

"And allow me to see if you are, indeed, being truthful?" Ratchet suggested with a telling look, and while Will didn't doubt that the medic knew that safety from a possible Seeker-turned-'Con was part of the reasoning as well, it wasn't the point now and they both knew that, too.

There were only fragments of a second of hesitation before Will raised his head defiantly. "Yes. I know it sounds stupid. I know it sounds like one of the bird-brain's half-boiled plots but you know it wouldn't have asked for a second opinion first. This isn't just about 'Hide. This is – it's everything. This isn't a compromise. This is who I am now, who I'll be for however long until someone gets in a lucky shot, and I can deal with that. Would I undo this whole thing if I could? I don't know, and it doesn't matter, because I can't. This is who I am now and for all that I'm stuck with a Seeker running on nothing but basic instincts, it's not all bad, either. I want this bond. I want the spark-bond with 'Hide, too. I'm trying, Ratchet. I know it sounds stupid and impulsive, the words won't get out right, but I'm trying. Give me a chance to prove that."

Flickers of something – doubt, hesitation, calculated concern, and underneath it all a lingering sense of trust that offered Will a glimpse of just how much confidence any ground-pounder needed to bond with something as volatile as a Seeker _–_ and then the medic held out one strong hand in a soundless offer. This time there was no hesitation at all as Will offered his own clawed hand in return, his own silent acceptance of the agreement as their hands touched and the word _spun_ and the only thing he could think of was how _different_ it had been with Ironhide.

Ironhide had been strength in battle, older than the War, older than their Prime, older than Megatron; strong and scarred and unrelenting, with an undercurrent of just as strong emotions but still unshakable against the torrent of impressions from their bond. Ratchet was strength in the aftermath that always followed war – just as old, just as strong, just as scarred, and just as unrelenting, but the feel was different; cool to Ironhide's heat, tempered to the forge of battle, and with the calm, ruthless ability to do what had to be done sometimes, to make life and death decisions and live with them as the War carried on through endless aeons. Dealing death through necessity, to focus on the ones that actually stood a chance, was very different from the act of pulling a trigger in a split-second decision and the emotions that flooded them now reflected that.

With Ironhide, there had been lust from the Seeker, the love of the sky and the thrill of the flight. With Ratchet it was just as all-consuming but it was trust that was the foremost emotion, trust and fierce determination and the feeling of a presence as old and unshakeable as a mountain, and he reached out before he was aware of it, his own thoughts and emotions wrapping around Ratchet until the raw impressions of the Seeker joined with the tightly controlled emotions of their medic, and it took him long seconds to realise that the sound at the edge of his processors was the Seeker crooning its affection.

Pleasure joined confidence joined trust and the raw feeling of _right_ as he consciously reached out and tried to explain without words, show that it was what he had wanted; that while the Seeker was happy, the human side was pretty damn pleased, too, and the rush of acknowledgement and careful affection he received in return was all the answer he needed to know that Ratchet understood.

_This is right,_ the Seeker murmured and Will nodded his silent agreement.

_Do you trust him?_ Ratchet asked, and it wasn't a voice as much as a mix of emotions and impression that was distinctly _Ratchet_, and Will's intakes vented softly as he tried to get it all under control again and keep from flooding his new bonded with emotions.

_With my life, _Will replied and couldn't have lied if he had wanted to. _With Sarah and Annabelle._

The bond was still for a moment, wisps of caution and careful consideration snaking through, and then he felt a whisper of a frown.

_A spark-merge is more than that. Our spark is our soul, Will. Everything we are, everything we were, everything we ever will be. Every moment, remembered or not. Everything you ever did. Every decision, every triumph, every shameful secret, every thought you would not even admit to yourself. Every moment of jealousy and hate, every moment of love and affection and despair. Everything you are, Will – and with a spark-bond, you share it all with him and in return, you are given the same by him. There will be no secrets, no shadows; no doubts or hesitation or festering uncertainties._

Ratchet fell silent, let Will have a moment to take it all in along with the feeling of seriousness that came with it. Will understood what the medic was doing – making sure that their new Seeker knew exactly what he was getting into, with no illusions and no false certainties – and he appreciated it on a level that he suspected Ratchet understood, considering Will's unstable-at-best ability to shield a bond, and never mind a brand new one.

_That is what a spark-merge is, William. _He paused and the emotions that followed through the bond as he continued were strong and unrelenting, ice and steel, and made the Seeker shudder in their mind. _Everything you ever were, everything you are, everything you ever will be._

Memories flickered through his processors, slow enough to see but too fast to grasp, and he felt his hand grip Ratchet's tighter, felt the hold tighten comfortingly in return as that stability remained across their bond, and he could do nothing but watch and remember and feel the Energon rush faster as the full weight of it all settled on his spark. Every memory to make shame surge through his processors, every nasty, narrow-minded thought he had tried to ignore, every lie, every hurt, every insult-

And he forced it all aside, because it didn't matter. It was Ironhide. The mech knew him, had seen him at his worst; had seen him through hangovers and blunders and battlefield losses and a Seeker he couldn't control, and when Will was finally able to focus on Ratchet again, there was steely defiance in his thoughts.

_I know._

It was silent again as Ratchet watched him over the bond but this time there was something else in it, serious thought behind it as Ratchet just _watched,_ and finally the shield relented again to let through a whisper of hesitant approval.

_If he agrees..._ Ratchet said carefully. _... I suppose I have heard of worse reasons for spark-bonding._

There was a surge of relief that Will couldn't quite hide; relief and satisfaction and silent pride, and he carefully reined it in as he tried to keep it from flooding both of his bonds and knew perfectly well he was failing, too – and Ratchet's presence was probably the only thing that had stopped Ironhide from poking him about what was happening, too.

It wasn't unconditional approval, Will knew, and he still had to bring it up with Ironhide, but it was still permission and for now, it would have to do.


	24. Chapter 21

**A/N:** There's an end somewhere in sight but it's sort of dragged out longer than I had expected *cough*. Rest assured, though, that there _is_ an ending planned and we're slowly (if somewhat unsteadily) working our way towards that. We're at least halfway through the fic now, I'd say! ;)

* * *

Sunset arrived on Diego Garcia with the swiftness that always followed when you were as close to the equator as the NEST base was. That fact wasn't what had made William Lennox curse when his mind finally cleared up enough to be able to focus on something other than the nagging drive to _do_ something. It was the fact that it wasn't until shadows clawed their way up the hangar walls and fading sunlight stained the clouds red and yellow and orange that Will actually noticed that evening had arrived... and looking back, he would be able to pinpoint that as the exact moment when he realised that he was inescapably, irrevocably entwined in the Seeker programming and that pretending anything else would be a waste of time at best and potentially fatal at worst.

However much he'd had on his mind, he should not have been able to miss something as blatantly obvious as a sunset. Granted, it wasn't that sunset was important in any way as anything more than a mental reminder of what time it was – it was the fact that he had been able to miss it in the first place. If he could overlook a sunset right in front of his pointed, alien nose, only Primus knew what else his processors would be able to overlook in a moment of distraction, and that was what had made whatever alien version he had of adrenaline kick in and his non-existent stomach tie into a knot. He had missed the sunsets often enough as a human, but that had been indoors and buried in paperwork. This had been outside. Talking with Ratchet, sure, but the medic wasn't exactly wide enough to block a whole evening sky from view, and nobody sane would be stupid enough to insinuate that, either.

The fact that he hadn't noticed a thing until he had managed to convince Ratchet that a spark-merge with Ironhide wasn't a completely brain-dead idea wasn't lost on him, either, and the sudden clarity of mind that had followed the medic's reluctant agreement was more chilling than reassuring.

He had thought he had been clear-headed, he really had. He had thought he had been clear-headed but it wasn't until that hazy and almost obsessive focus on the idea was gone that he realised how influenced by Seeker-programming his mind had really been... and if he was able to completely fail to notice something like that, too, it didn't bode well for his general attention-span at all.

He was used to having his life depend on his observation skills in the field and the ability to spot a threat before it spotted him or his men. What Seeker-programming was doing to his mind was slowly but steadily making those skills unreliable at best and utterly useless in the worst-case scenario that Will had the sinking feeling was the most likely outcome of the whole thing.

Feeling vaguely pissed about the whole thing, Will offered a muttered curse at letting himself get distracted like that, pushed aside the gnawing fear that it might happen again, and offered every mental oath he knew that he would slagging well keep a better eye on things in the future, programming and voices in his head be damned.

A flare of annoyance with himself surged across the newly-formed bond and was gone again before Will could shield it properly and he sighed even as he saw Ratchet give him a Look and a silent demand for details and Primus help both human and Seeker if the medic actually had to _ask_.

"Seeker stuff," Will offered in half apology and half explanation. "I can't even say it has the attention-span of a goldfish, can I? It's got great focus, after all - if you can overlook the fact that it ignores everything else that goes on around it."

The Seeker didn't feel as insulted about that as Will had expected - _unimportant-indifference-irrelevant_ the Seeker sent by way of explanation - and maybe it was a matter of adapting to each other or maybe it was because it was growing up and had enough self-awareness to know that it was true and not mind, either, because it considered it a useful ability.

"The ability to remain intently focused to the exclusion of all else is a rather Seeker-ish trait," Ratchet agreed quietly and a clearly deliberate feeling of _calm _followed through their bond. "It has helped them survive as a breed. If you consider it for a moment, the purpose will be clear."

_Flight,_ the Seeker murmured before he could ask, a surge of memories of spinning in freefall and skimming the sea with mere feet to spare, and it was all that was needed to make it click and sudden understanding settle with the human part. Seekers were fast, faster than most human aircrafts, and the stunts they pulled off for nothing more than the sheer thrill of it defied anything a human jet would be able to handle. They were neither heavily armoured nor heavily armed for something of their size and relied on their speed and skills in combat rather than raw firepower and when he thought of it from the Seeker's perspective, that single-minded ability to focus made perfect sense.

_Flight,_ the Seeker repeated with an echo of pride in the words and there was nothing in that one word that Will could argue about.

The tunnel vision that freaked the every-loving _slag_ out of the Ranger was a life-saving necessity to a Seeker. You didn't hesitate or allow yourself to get distracted when you were going at Mach three through a canyon. You trusted your instinct and you lived, or you hesitated or let your attention wander and removed your faulty self from the breed. It only made sense if it carried over in their behaviour outside of flying, too, and looking at it from that point of view his lack of attention over the course of that conversation made perfect sense - tunnel vision brought on by Seeker programming that had been well aware of the importance of the conversation and decided to give him the best odds possible by removing any outside distractions. It hadn't been the Seeker's fault that the human side wasn't familiar with that sort of programming and decided to freak about something the Seeker considered perfectly normal.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Will muttered and rubbed a clawed hand against his face. "At this rate I'm going to be useless on the ground."

Another item on the long, long list of things to bring up with Primus whenever he got the chance and at the rate things were going, it would probably be sooner rather than later. He fragging well wasn't going to just roll over and submit but if his mind could be that taken over by Seeker-programming without the human part ever noticing while it was going on, it really didn't bode well for his state of mind when he finally ran into the 'Con Seekers. The stronger the Seeker-influence...

_... the stronger the programming that says I can't just shoot Starscream out of the sky. Frag it all to the __**Pit**__.  
_  
"I need..." Will trailed off, rubbed his face again as he tried to get his thoughts back under control and find some way to express the emotions circling his mind. _Need to get away, need to get a grip, need to-_

- Needed to _something_, and the words didn't make sense to him, and his processors wouldn't cooperate, and something must have seeped through his shields or maybe he was just that predictable, because Ratchet only nodded.

"Jolt and Mikaela will have the test dummy finished by tonight. You will be able to assist the NEST team in testing it out in flight tomorrow."

Because right now he needed to get away from Cybertronians and Seeker-influences, needed to be reminded of what that other half of him was and where it had come from, and maybe being around human brothers in arms would be enough to do that and maybe it wouldn't, but he would at the very least give it a serious try. The less he thought like a Seeker when the ambush hit, the better for all of them. The NEST team... he needed to work with his NEST team and get them imprinted on his flighty little interfaced-obsessed mind. NEST... and Sarah, and Annabelle.

Something stirred in the back of his mind, an instinctive response as Seeker-programming confirmed that it was still aware of its mates' locations – Ironhide on the shooting range and Sarah...

One, two seconds, and the Seeker snarled its frustration and made Will wince and be grateful it had only made that sound in his head and not actually voiced that near-screech out loud.

_She's human,_ he pointed out. _'Hide couldn't feel me when I was human, either._

_We are Seeker,_ the presence snarled back and managed to put a truly impressive range of insults and ego in those three words.

Another mental tug on the one-side bond with Sarah followed and failed, and Will could almost feel the Seeker's optics narrow as it dredged through never-used bits of programming with all the grace and virtue of the newly-created, inexperienced, impatient Seeker that it was.

Something flicked through his processors – symbols and glyphs and things he couldn't even _begin_ to understand – and he felt it draw their strength too late to do anything but brace himself as the Seeker snarled its displeasure out loud and a soundless shockwave of raw energy tore itself from their body.

He felt more than heard Ratchet's sharp wince over their bond as the mech got the energy-burst at near point blank, felt the world spin and his strength drained-

- And as the shockwave rolled across the island, his mental map of Diego Garcia lit up like a Christmas tree. Autobots, humans; anything sufficiently advanced to be even reasonably sentient, and Ratchet was a minor sun lighting up the world beside him, glowing points of blue-spark and pink-Energon and red-blood as programming sorted through the staggering amounts of inputs it had just received and Will desperately tried to stay on his feet as the world only slowly stopped spinning at that dizzying pace.

Silence for a long moment, the questioning feel of both Ratchet and Ironhide's attention focused on him, and then he felt an echo of Ratchet's mental firm, shooing gesture at Ironhide before only the medic's presence remained.

Another moment, then two, and whatever-he-had-for-a-stomach settled slightly again – enough, at least, for Will to bring optics back online that he hadn't even been aware of offlining in the first place, and then Ratchet took a cautious step closer.

"William?"

The Christmas-lights of a map in his head had turned down the overwhelming brightness a little, too, but not enough that actual sound didn't make him flinch slightly, however low and cautious it might be.

"Can Seekers puke?" Because slightly-less-nauseous or not, he still felt like he was about to purge his tanks or whatever the hell they called it when it was a Cybertronian doing the hurling. His own voice almost made him twitch as well but it would probably still be better than trying to focus any sort of coherent thought in his processors as it was, and whatever the Seeker had done, his body did not appreciate it.

Ratchet paused. "Do you really wish to know, given your current state?"

Point, there, and Will subconsciously shuddered as the dizziness slowly – slowly – faded. "Not really." This time, he was the one to pause as he tried to sort out what the Seeker had done – and whatever it was, it had affected both of them, because the Seeker sounded strangely muted as it responded, miserable, little murmurs that sounded as pathetic as he felt. "It did a normal little 'keep tag on the mates' thing and couldn't pick up Sarah. She's human so she can't have a real bond with it. It didn't take that too well. I think it tried to scan for her because I just picked up on every single sentient being on the whole fragging island, human, Autobot, and otherwise."

"Ours scanners are not intended to be able to identify one human among thousands without a tracker of some sort to mark them," Ratchet said carefully – still on edge from the shockwave, maybe, or just making sure he wouldn't rattle Will enough to put the tank-purging theory to the test, and either reason was fine with Will as long as it meant no sudden, sharp sounds.

"Yeah, well, I don't think anyone told bird-brain," Will muttered and rubbed what would have been his temple when he had still been human and felt a headache take over bit by bit where the nausea had been. "Because she's on one of the beaches with Anna and 'Bee."

Well, he assumed that second presence to be Annabelle, at least, but it was significantly smaller than Sarah and the Seeker had responded to it as well with a flicker of recognition so Will would put good money on that guess being right. Sarah, at least, there was no doubt about. Her presence didn't light up in the same blinding way that Ratchet or Ironhide did at the insane level the scan had been set at but it was still impossible to mistake for anything but _mate_ and lit up like a minor sun against the rest of the humans on base. Brighter than the blue-spark he had recognised as Bumblebee, at least, and all but drowning out the wisp of light right next to it that he assumed was Sam, if Ratchet had put Jolt and Mikaela to work.

Cooling fans kicked in to lower the temperature that for once had nothing to do with arousal and another - mercifully weaker - wave of nausea followed as faint vibrations from the fans were enough to unsettle him again. Ratchet took another cautious step closer and brought up a scanner, then lowered it again long moments later.

"I would recommend against attempting that again. Your core temperature rose sharply and your Energon reserves dropped by four percent. Your scanners weren't meant to handle that sort of strain."

_Recommend against attempting that again._

Understatement of the fragging _decade_, Will decided, and the headache - or processor-ache, or PCU-ache, or whatever the proper term was for the vice that was crunching the inside of his skull - was steadily getting worse, and all he wanted was to find somewhere nice and flat and be unconscious for a few days. Frag recharge. Out cold was the way to go.

"Yeah, I got that part of it," he rasped as the vice tightened another notch. "Fever and hangover. Got it. Not doing that again."

Ratchet nodded and then his optics dimmed for a moment in what Will had long since learned to recognise as a sign of silent communication over some comm-line or another. "Optimus," he said by way of explanation. "The effects of your scan were felt base-wide by Cybertronians. I let him know that it was a controlled test of your capabilities and that we underestimated your Seeker's ability to override its safety protocols."

The ghost of something against his bond with Ironhide, restless impatience slipping through even what Will knew to be Ironhide's considerable mental shields, but his body had settled down enough that it didn't bring on a new wave of nausea, at least. "'Hide's not happy."

"He did not get the same effects of it that I received but it still affected him," Ratchet confirmed, then continued with an undercurrent of a distinct threat aimed at the black mech in question. "I also told him to keep his wretched cannons out of this matter and refrain from putting your systems under any more stress."

"I think it slipped through on accident," Will defended him. "It wasn't much, just... 'Hide."

Ratchet made an unimpressed sound. "He should have more control than that."

Someone was definitely going to get their aft chewed out, no doubt about that, but his head hurt too much to be able to muster much more in way of defence of his mate before even Seeker-programming conceded to the superior power that was a thoroughly annoyed Ratchet and settled down again in the back of his mind with a morose feeling.

It took several more long moments before his processors managed to start up again and made him frown slightly as he realised something else.

"How about Sarah?" he asked. "You said base-wide with the Autobots. She's human but she shows up a lot clearer than, say, 'Bee does it in my head. Not as bright as you or 'Hide, but... you think she might...?" A small gesture with his hand followed, trying to explain what his processor couldn't work up the energy to put into words, and Ratchet frowned slightly.

"Interesting question." Blue optics dimmed, for a lot longer that time, and then lit up slowly again as the medic refocused on Will with an intent look that neither human nor Seeker was entirely comfortable with. "It scanned specifically for her?"

"... I guess?" Will frowned as he tried to make sense of what little his tired, morose Seeker was able to give in way of explanation amidst the still-building headache from the stunt it had pulled. "She was the one it wanted to find. It focused on her but I'm not sure if it did it to the exclusion of everyone else. I don't think it's got the focus for that, to be honest. I picked up on a lot more humans than her, at least, I just couldn't identify them the same way as Sarah." He paused and watched the medic frown as well and he had been around enough medics in his career to know that a frown was never good news. "Ratchet?"

"Bumblebee reports that she felt something at the time of your scan," Ratchet finally said. "Samuel was within twenty feet of her and felt nothing. It would appear it has more control of itself when necessary than we assumed... or that your prior connection as humans had a role in the effects of the scan."

_Frag._

Sudden panic forced its way through the vice and the haze of pain for long enough to make his processors actually focus. "Is she okay? Both of them?" Because frag it all to the _Pit,_ that blast had been enough to make Ratchet wince and every human on base show up on his mental little map, and if that had been focused on-

"She is well. I will see to her later, to ensure a human doctor unfamiliar with your build wouldn't miss something vital on accident, but she is perfectly well. It was faint enough that she first thought it to be nothing more than her imagination. Her – your – young one felt nothing at all, it seemed. She is well, William. She is perfectly unharmed. They both are."

Low, confident, soothing, and it doubtlessly wasn't the first time the medic had needed to talk down some concerned relative or another and Will's intakes made a shuddering sound as all strength left him again and the headache returned with a vengeance.

There was something else nagging him and however much he didn't want to ask, the Seeker was pretty much out for the count and the programming that came with it all but knocked out cold by the Seeker's little stunt, and he would probably never be as clear-headed again as he was now.

"I'll apologise to her tomorrow." He paused, tried to find a way to put it to make it all make sense, and the sighed in resignation. "About 'Hide... how can you be sure it's me who wants this? _I'm_ not even sure any more, these days. Whenever I think I've got it under control, it shows right back up. When I think I've finally got a clear head, it turns out I'm just so far under Seeker-control that I don't even _notice_ the programming affecting my head in the first place. I'm scared, Ratchet, and I can't even work up a good panic about it because the programming just takes a look at it and decides there's nothing to panic _about _because it's really just improving my stupid little human ideas for me and I should be grateful for it instead. How the hell do I know it's not just programming that's telling me to find a good, strong mate and roll over and take it and get to breeding? I like him, Ratchet. I liked him even when I was human, even if that was as a comrade in arms. I want to do this right and not because the voices in my head told me to."

He almost expected Ratchet to use that bond to take a closer look at the situation and kept a hard grip on the desperate relief he felt when it became clear that the medic had no intentions of that – it could have been useful, maybe, but his head hurt too much to even consider how much worse it would get if he got the full effects of a bond to join the headache... and never mind that Ratchet might have ended up with a mirroring headache from poking around with the bond in the first place.

"Have you changed your mind?" the medic asked quietly and the anger Will had almost expected from him never materialised – anger at his indecisiveness, maybe, anger at hearing him second-guess a decision he had sounded so sure about, but it never showed and Will shuttered his optics for a moment.

"I... _no,_" he said and meant it even as fear settled in between images of spark-mate and strength and gleaming, black metal that almost shimmered in the unearthly glow of twin cannons. "I'm worried. Scratch that, I'm scared out of my fragging _mind_ about this. I don't know if it's me or the Seeker who wants this. I don't know-"

_-What would happen if we caved, if Optimus had to take the shot, if we ended up dead from sheer Seeker-related stupidity_, and he slowly cycled air through his systems until he was calm enough to cut off that train of thought before it went any further. "I worry. Period."

"Ironhide is a competent mech," Ratchet pointed out. "His level of common sense was never awe-inspiring and he has been known to cause more destruction than most Decepticons can ever dream of, but he has survived nonetheless. He has lost spark-merged mates before, William. Not many, and never easily, but he has survived. The story of a spark-merged mate following the other into deactivation is all very romantic, I'm certain, but the fact remains that a strong mech surrounded by trusted companions or other mates will survive. The loss will be felt but will rarely be enough to bring about an offlining by itself. This is his choice to make and if he decides to agree, he will have done so with first-hand experience of the potential consequences of it." He paused to allow Will's much-tried processors to catch up with his words, then he continued with a slight bit of amusement in his voice. "In any case, your Seeker is still too young and impulsive to be able to argue coherently for something it firmly desires, much less argue logically for it at that. If you did not agree with its choice of Ironhide as spark-merged mate to a fairly large degree, you would not have been able to argue your case so strongly. Seeker programming may have driven you to bring up the option much sooner than might otherwise have been the case but there was far more human than Seeker arguing for a spark-merge. Bonds may lie at times but not one as new as ours. Can I be certain about the human influence? No. But the feeling you gave off was far more human than Seeker. Influenced by instincts, certainly, but it was still your own decision."

Which... made sense. Possibly. Or maybe it was just the Seeker programming affecting him again, and at the rate things were going, he'd be a paranoid lunatic in one month flat. Less, if he spent too much time thinking about programming versus personality and human free will, and a change of subject was definitely in order.

"So what do I do now?" Will asked with a sigh. How the frag did giant, alien robots go about it? Go pull up a rosebush and ask him out? Offer him high-grade? A wax? The spark-cage from a dead Decepticon?

"What is your Seeker half's suggestion?" Ratchet's vaguely amused tone suggested he had some pretty good ideas and Will almost kept from groaning at the images he got in response to that, tired, miserable Seeker and headache or not.

"Whack him over the head and drag him off by his non-existent hair, caveman style? It's a _Seeker,_ Ratchet. It's a bird-brain running on basic programming, not Casanova, you fragging well know that."

"It simply makes my task easier when I know what I have to work with," Ratchet corrected him with deceptive mildness that probably covered for more than a little amusement behind those carefully maintained shields. "Although no, I don't recommend following that particular course of action. For one, Ironhide outclasses most Seekers – and certainly you – by several magnitudes in regards to ground-based combat. The more culturally acceptable version was a mating flight... and still is, I suppose, even if it is rarely used these days."

Which made sense, too, and it was a testament to just how miserable the Seeker felt that the images that accompanied the words – glorious sweeps against clouds and death-defying spins and claiming the sky itself for mate and the glory and awesomeness that was a _Seeker_ – was enough to draw a soundless whimper from the thing as it shuddered and curled up in its misery, and invited Will to join it as another wave of nausea followed.

Something had obviously shown on his face because Ratchet merely held out a hand. "It can wait, William. Recharge before you get into any more trouble. Doctor's orders."

And with a careful, careful nod of agreement, Will accepted the outstretched hand and followed Ratchet back to the hanger and the blissful, blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.


	25. Chapter 22

Ironhide made a point to never voluntarily visit the infirmary if he could in any way avoid it. This obviously had nothing to do with fear of their CMO – Ironhide merely spent enough time being repaired as it was and didn't want to intrude on his busy friend and occasional interface partner's domain without reason, since they all knew how very busy their medic was. That was his explanation, that was what he was sticking to, and Primus help anyone stupid enough to insinuate otherwise... which, unsurprisingly, was very few of them, since anyone sane shared his perfectly healthy level of affectionate respect for their overworked medic.

Ratchet, all-knowing, Pit-spawned medic that he was, obviously seemed to know that, too, and took a sadistic kind of pleasure in hauling Ironhide into the infirmary for that very reason. There was absolutely no reason why they couldn't just talk in Ironhide's quarters, or Ratchet's, or the fragging runway for that matter... and still somehow Ironhide found himself stepping through painfully familiar doors to find Ratchet clearly waiting for him, and for a moment Ironhide wasn't sure if a surprise Decepticon attack wouldn't be preferable.

A glance around revealed the infirmary to be clear of any patients and Ironhide gave their medic a cautious look, feeling the trap start to spring around him and for the life of him not able to see where it was leading him. Ratchet could be an intimidating mech when he wanted to be and right now he clearly did and Ironhide had been on the receiving end of a fragged-off medic often enough that his sudden, responding caution was pretty much imprinted on his processors.

"Where's Will?" Ironhide asked carefully and took two steps further into the room just to prove that he wasn't intimidated in the least, however much they both knew otherwise. "I'm surprised he's not here. I would have thought he'd sent himself into stasis with that stunt he pulled."

"He almost did," Ratchet replied with an unimpressed sound. "He's in recharge. Deep recharge but recharge nonetheless. They are a more resilient build in that regard than most suspect."

An almost-straightforward answer, Ironhide noted, and adjusted his own approach accordingly. If that was how their medic wanted to play, he wasn't going to get in the way, not if it meant a stay of execution for... whatever the frag he had done this time to piss the mech off. Tried to get an answer over the bond with Will against orders, possibly, although it hadn't been all on purpose... not that it would make a difference in Ratchet's view.

"What happened?" It wasn't all playing along, either – it was his friend and likely future mate and he was genuinely curious about what was going on. For all the the Seeker was shaping up to be a Megatron-sized pain in the aft, it was still his friend and the first Seeker he had been up close and personal with outside of combat, and he wasn't so old that he'd forgotten how to be curious.

"You felt him search for you shortly before, I assume," Ratchet replied and didn't wait for Ironhide's affirmative response. "He doesn't have the self-control yet to do it unnoticed. He attempted the same with his human bonded... _mate_ and did not take kindly to the discovery that he could not reach her through their bond. As a result, he scanned for her instead."

And wasn't that a fragging harmless way of expressing what had turned into a still-lingering processor-pain for Ironhide... and judging by Ratchet's body language, probably made their medic more than a little uncomfortable in the process, too.

A moment later, he realised something else.

"Mate?"

They'd called her his human bonded before and Ironhide was well aware of the difference between those two words and knew just as well that Ratchet wouldn't have used it without reason.

"It claimed her," Ratchet explained with the deceptive sort of mildness. "As a _mate._ Not a bonded. My theory is that it's a result of their bond as humans but there is little chance of ever finding out for sure. For now, we're still considering our options. I will talk to her once I'm done with you here."

And however much Ironhide wanted to find out what the frag was going on with Sarah Lennox – because he slagging well owed that to his friend if nothing else – Ratchet's last sentence had reminded him of just what he was doing there and Ironhide's optics narrowed slightly.

"I wasn't injured last I checked."

It was a deliberate attempt to play stupid and it obviously didn't work as Ratchet planted both hands on a berth and leaned forward slightly in another long-practised display of pure intimidation.

"There is nothing physical to fix at the moment, Ironhide, I assure you. Instead, we are going to have a long-overdue talk... before there _is_ something to repair."

No surprise there. Ironhide was quickly getting a fairly good idea of what the reason for the whole uncomfortable situation was and he interrupted before Ratchet ever had the chance to even begin.

"I'm not going to do anything with him that the human wouldn't want to do," he bit out. "I know I'm a front-liner. I know we don't have a reputation for being first in line when Primus handed out processing powers but I'm not going to drag him off and have my way with him just because he's got wings. I know he looks like a Seeker, I know they've got a reputation for doing anything big and strong enough to beat them up, but I'm not going to forget there's a human in there, too. I'm not that stupid."

Even if Ratchet hadn't made that particular issue very, very clear to Ironhide on more than a few occasions, Ironhide liked to think he would have worked it out on his own. It was his friend, a _human_, and he liked to think he would have been able to figure out the difference between the two just fine, shared body or not. He could appreciate what the medic was doing and yes, it was good to know that someone had their Seeker's back even if most of them didn't have a clue about what was going on in those flighty, irrational processors of his, but it was getting just a bit ridiculous. He hadn't survived on cannon power alone. He did have some mental abili---

"That's very good to know, Ironhide," Ratchet interrupted his ranting train of thought in a drawl that Ironhide had long since learned to recognise as a sure sign someone was being exceptionally dense. "I had no doubts about that - you may be a front-liner but you have proven to have at least some amount of processing powers left when it comes to him - but still, reassurances are always nice. Is there anything else you would like to get off of your chest or may I continue?"

A confused stare was all Ironhide could muster in return as his carefully planned-out arguments were neatly swept away and Ratchet clearly took that as permission to go on because he gave Ironhide a long look for good measure and then continued. "Instructions, Ironhide. If you wish to interface with him, you need instructions."

For a long moment Ironhide was silent as his processors went over that bit of the conversation a few more times to made sure he really did hear what he thought be did, and then he snorted in lack of any other logical response. "I'm older than slagging dirt, Ratchet. I know how to 'face. You haven't complained before." Not about anything but Ironhide moving too slagging slow or being a Primus-damned tease, but front-liner or not, even he wasn't brave - or stupid - enough to bring that up at the moment.

"You know how to interface with a mech," Ratchet corrected in that same drawl. "Not with a Seeker. You _are_ aware there's a difference, are you not?"

"He's got wings and he's a bit weird in the processors," Ironhide drawled right back. "And he can spark. He's not an alien. He's still a Cybertronian, just a different build. We've still got all the same bits and pieces that matter."

"He also has eight feet and more than a ton on you," Ratchet pointed out. "And two jet engines that can offline you if you get in their way. He may not have your cannons or Optimus' Energon swords but never assume that he is harmless. There is a _reason_ why most of them are proud Decepticons and it has everything to do with their programming. You are his mate. He has no intentions of causing you deliberate harm but that is never a guarantee with a Seeker. Their programming can and will override any kind of common sense and bonds of loyalty if they react instinctively."

Like with Sideswipe. Ironhide had been about to argue when that memory made its way to the front of his processors and he stopped himself before he could say anything, suddenly unsure about the whole thing again. The Seeker hadn't exactly shown itself to be a towering display of stability and common sense as it was and while the human had been sort-of stable before everything had happened, he'd had his moments of reckless stupidity, too. He had been about to argue that the human and the Seeker had more control than Ratchet gave them credit for but the truth was, he wasn't even sure about that anymore.

Ratchet had obviously picked up on that, too – from body language or their bond or even just his silence – and when he continued, a bit of the edge in his voice had faded, too, now that he felt that some of the seriousness of the situation had imprinted itself on Ironhide.

"A Seeker would instinctively know what to do and what to avoid. You won't, because you do not have wings of your own, nor do you have any of the other Seeker-specific, physical peculiarities that make them what they are. This _will _be a problem considering that both of you have the same preferences for rough interfacing. If you simply went ahead and 'faced with him without regard for your differences, you would damage his wings. Nothing that couldn't be repaired with relative ease as long as I had the necessary parts available but that wouldn't matter to him." He paused, let those words really sink into Ironhide's processors, and then continued – low and urgent and deadly serious. "There is nothing in this universe that will panic as badly as a young Seeker that has just received its first serious wing-related injury. _Nothing._ If you cause serious harm to those wings, he will panic. It doesn't matter that there is a human part in there. It doesn't matter if you tell it that it's merely temporarily grounded until repairs are done. It doesn't matter that you are its mate or if it's told that it is easily repaired or even if you use that bond to try and get it under control again. It would panic, Ironhide. At best, it would go into shock and stay that way until I could get there to handle it. More likely, it would go into blind panic and hurt you – possibly quite grievously – in its attempt to get away. The human side might tell it that it would be easily repaired but its Seeker programming would convince it that it would never fly again, that its wings were gone, and that it had lost everything that made it a Seeker."

One second passed, then two as Ironhide tried to imagine just what would happen if something that strong and that heavy went off like that, and then he shuttered his optics briefly as images came to him far too vividly.

_Frag._

Ironhide stayed silent even as he let that feeling of sudden worry make its way through his bond with Ratchet, because there was really nothing he could say that would bring across his feelings better than that bond would, and he felt Ratchet's side of it open as well in response, a mix of mirroring worry and hard determination and the undercurrent of lingering doubt underneath it all... and there was something about it that nagged Ironhide's processors in a way he couldn't quite put into words.

"They are their wings, Ironhide," Ratchet continued. "Their wings are their everything. A Seeker can be brought to overload through nothing more than caresses of its wings, and you can permanently offline it through those wings as well without ever as much as touching its spark or its Energon lines. You can't ignore them for any period of time and you can't forget just what you are dealing with in them, either. I have seen grounders killed for touching a Seeker's wings against its will. _That_ is what you are dealing with. It's hardwired into them and human or not, the same will be the case with William."

Ironhide was about to argue that he wasn't that stupid, that he could damn well tell the difference between 'That hurts, do it harder' and 'That hurts, stop!' and that Ratchet, if anyone, should know that, too, but he stopped himself before he could voice anything of the kind. Ratchet was just looking out for their new Seeker – their _friend_ – and if he was a little over-zealous in doing so, then Ironhide would chalk it up to the fierce concern that had always been at the core of their medic's spark.

"He's my friend, Ratchet. Even if he hadn't been mate or bonded or anything like that, he's still my friend, and if I screw this up, I'll beat myself up a lot more than you or that flying fragger could ever do. Be careful with their wings, I get it. Give me a little credit here."

Ratchet just gave him a hard look in return as Ironhide felt the familiar presence of their bond flare up again as his friend tried to gauge his seriousness... and there it was again, the feeling of something about their bond being... not quite wrong but not quite Ratchet, either, something just out of his grasp as he struggled to pinpoint it; an echo of something that was both maddeningly familiar and unnervingly-

_- alien._

And in an instant it clicked and Ironhide almost laughed as a dozen little bits of the puzzle fell neatly into place, but knowing the being involved as well as he did, he skipped the laughter and settled for a vaguely amused look instead that echoed through their connection.

"You bonded with him, didn't you?"

It was rare that anyone caught Ratchet looking surprised and Ironhide knew he would keep that particular little bit of memory for a long, long time as _indignation-shock-surprise_ flooded their bond and the medic just gaped at him as he tried to make his vocaliser work again.

Ironhide answered with his own feelings of cheerful amusement that made Ratchet visibly pull himself together, snap his mouth shut, and shield the bond again... and then a long second later, groan and rub his face tiredly. "Yes."

Which explained that off sort of feeling to their bond and Ironhide kept watching him with badly disguised amusement as the medic pulled himself together completely and the usual Ratchet-style body language returned as the last bits of Seeker-style behaviour got pushed aside. "He affects you that much? I thought he was in recharge. I don't even feel him right now."

Ratchet shifted in an almost embarrassed way at that and if Ironhide hadn't been convinced before that there was a good story hiding there somewhere, he fragging well was now. "It's a bit more complicated than mere cause and effect. To deal properly with Seekers requires a certain kind of manner to make them listen at all. He reminded me of that. It's less a matter of influence through the bond as it is a matter of old habits."

Habits. Habits took a while to form, wartime or not, and none of the files had never even mentioned that their CMO had spent a while working with Seekers, much less how long. Ironhide had never actually asked – if Ratchet had known something that would have been useful in battle, he would have shared with them a long time ago – and he'd always just... assumed that it had been a short stay. Go there, dip in his mech-toes a little, decide they were winged pests straight from the Pit, and then gone on to be a normal doctor and eventually end up as the Autobot CMO.

If he had been there for long enough to develop actual habits, though...

"How long did you actually spend with those things?" he asked and let his curiosity show through their bond, followed by bemusement as he tried to wrap his processors around it. "I always thought you stayed there for just long enough to realise how much of a pest they were and then got the frag out of there again. Sure, they're pretty and interesting and all that slag but they were always 'Cons by nature, you told me that yourself. Not exactly the nicest company around. That's why they were always short on medics."

Ratchet stayed silent for a long while at that and even their bond didn't give any hint to his emotions before he finally raised his head slightly and that classic unyielding Ratchet was right back again. "They were short of medics because most of the ones that were trained had no bearings, no strength of will, and no desire or ability to learn it, either. That may have worked well for civilized areas and peacetime but they would stand no chance in war or the slum or among beings who value strength above all else. I saw countless medics right out of training come through my clinic there and most of them were gone again before we could as much as put their name on a door. They came there because Seekers were pretty and exotic and attractive and they left again because they failed to realise that they would be dealing with _Seekers._ They asked and suggested where they should have demanded and ordered. The reason why there were never enough medics among Seekers was because their training was worthless when pitted against something that believes to the very core of its spark that might makes right."

And when pitted against war and Megatron, too, probably, but Ironhide didn't say that. There hadn't been a lot of medics left by the time the War had finally engulfed the whole of Cybertron and the ones that remained had been the strong ones. Some temperamental, some cold, some downright brutal, but they had all been strong and had all had the relentless stubbornness and determination to survive and fight tooth and claw to stay that way.

In retrospect, Ironhide realised, he should have known their medic's stay around the flighty pains in the aft had been a lot longer than he had ever thought.

Something whispered though their bond, dug up from a deeper level than they normally bonded at – old losses, lingering pain, mental scars that had never quite gone away – and Ironhide's intakes vented softly as images appeared in his processors uninvited; red optics and purple banners and a shift of power that would extinguish countless sparks among their forces as time carried on.

"Were you there when they turned 'Con?"

Loss, guilt, _failure_, and Ironhide reached back in response, rock-solid and offering nothing but trust and affection in return, and Ratchet didn't look away.

"If I had been slower to leave, I would have been."

_Should have been,_ he didn't say, even if they both heard it.

"If you had been slower to leave," Ironhide corrected him, "you would have been offlined. You know that. Medic or not, Megatron would have had you offlined. You're too stubborn to turn 'Con."

Guilt was something Ironhide was intimately familiar with; the spark-wrenching feeling of failure when you had to leave someone behind, the helplessness of someone you couldn't save because you were too slow, too big, too small, too worthless, and maybe he didn't quite understand where Ratchet's feeling came from but it wasn't going to stop him from trying to offer what help he could, anyway.

"I am aware of that, Ironhide," Ratchet said quietly. "It does not change the fact that I am a medic. My coding adapts. Like yours or his does when it accepts a bond, mine adapts if I spend enough time around the same type of build. I adapt to enable me to do my duty better and I spent more than enough time among Seekers to adapt to them. They were _kin._ Distant kin in most cases, but kin nonetheless, and I spent enough time there to become close to some as well. They were kin, Ironhide, and I abandoned them."

That guilt was still eating away at him and now there was one he _could _save, Ironhide didn't need the bond to know that. An unstable, confused, borderline-manic one at times but it was a Seeker, it was an Autobot, and it was a friend, and when he looked at it like that, it was no slagging wonder that Ratchet had been so protective of Will from the moment he was brought into the infirmary, still covered in dust and sand and tiny bits of rubble. If that coding never wrote itself out again but just went dormant, then one short-tempered Seeker running on basic coding would probably be all that was needed to drag it all right up again and rip up old wounds that had long since been locked away...

... and with that, Ironhide realised something else.

"Does Prime know?"

The flat look Ratchet gave him was all the answer Ironhide really needed but the medic snorted, anyway, and when he spoke, his voice was closer to what they were all used to again. "Define 'know'. Does he know I worked among the flying pests? Yes. I never hid that for him and I had enough personal items with Seeker glyphs on them for it to be fairly obvious to anyone with even half a processor that I had spent time there. Does he know for how long? He never asked and I never told. I lived there for long enough that more than a few beings would have marked me as a Decepticon sympathiser for that alone. When I left them, I had Seeker mannerisms, I had Seeker instincts, and I had close to a Seeker's temper. It was my luck that most Autobots knew too little about them to tell and that those in the know also knew enough not to write me off for that reason alone." He fell silent and the only sound was the soft whisper of air though intakes before he continued in a softer voice. "Does he know? He was never stupid – he has personal experience with Seekers and he has always kept good mechs around him. He guessed himself or someone told him – I don't know which one and it doesn't matter, because he never mentioned a thing. Yes, he knew. They also needed a CMO who could run a wartime hospital without being run over in the process and I was at the top of a very, very short list of candidates they had. My experience with those flying frags was exactly what was needed, so nobody ever said a thing about it and whatever files might have been opened on me quietly vanished in the dead of he night."

Jazz, probably, Ironhide realised with a twinge of lingering loss in his spark, because something like that would have been right up his alley. Put a Seeker-trained medic as the CMO because front-liners were _nothing_ compared to a Seeker in a rage and let him use what he learned from those things to patch up the faction that were now shooting them out of the sky. It had been Jazz behind it, no question about that.

And suddenly Ratchet's overprotective behaviour made sense, too. It wasn't that Ironhide had expected Ratchet not to care but the sort of protectiveness and attention he was showing their new Seeker was a lot more than Ironhide would have expected considering his other duties as CMO and their sole medic with completed medical training behind him. He could have handed Will over to Ironhide or their Prime and trusted them to take care of him, and it might or might not have worked, but he could have done it and lack of experience with the things or not, they would have done their best, too. He could but he hadn't, because the Seeker-trained CMO had taken their young, new Seeker under his wing and he wasn't about to let go easily again, and Primus help anyone who got in his way, because Ratchet himself would not be merciful.

He was testing Ironhide because Ironhide was that Seeker's future mate and Ratchet was going to be fragging sure he wouldn't fail another Seeker, and after another long moment Ironhide slowly released the tension he hadn't even been aware had entered his body.

"I won't hurt him, Ratchet. He's my friend, he trusts me, he's had my back in battle and I've had his. I'd tear out my own spark before doing anything against his will."

Still Ratchet didn't move and on impulse Ironhide shifted through countless firewalls and deliberately chaotic defences to find an ever-evolving, complex code at the centre of it all, glowing faintly blue. Several more codes were needed to make a copy and for something that happened in his processors, the four seconds that procedure took were close to endless and enough for Ratchet to notice-

- And then the copy was complete and Ironhide pushed it through their bond before he could have any second thoughts, and he could tell the exact moment when Ratchet realised what he now had nestled next to his spark, optics brightening in sudden shock.

"You know the medical overrides to get a spark-cage opened, I know that, you've done it on me before," he explained quietly before the other could speak. "That's not an override. I trust you and I trust him and if you ever need to use it, I know I'll have had it coming."

Still silence as shock and pain and trust and ancient scars and an overwhelming surge of raw, spark-deep emotion crossed their bond, and then Ratchet grasped his arm tightly and Ironhide returned the gesture, and there was nothing but their bond glowing brightly blue and their sparks and each other's presence as Ratchet tightened his grip and left ghosts of a hand-print in Ironhide's plating and then nodded once, slowly.

"You've rattled your processors, you giant lump of scrap metal," he said in a voice that was low and hoarse from emotion, and Ironhide did the only thing he could do and just shrugged slightly in return.

"I'm a front-liner. I hear we're pretty dumb."

A snort, once more like the Ratchet he knew, and then the grip loosened again and the medic nodded again. "Be careful. For both of you."

And through their still-glowing bond, Ironhide gave his silent agreement.


	26. Chapter 23

**A/N:** According to Open Office, I now officially have 100k+ words of Seeker very-much-NOT-porn for a kinkmeme. I am failtastic. *pokes M-rating*. Thank you so much for sticking with me, all you wonderful readers! You rock :)

* * *

Being a medic and having access to the internet had left Ratchet with a passable knowledge of human religions. He was never the most religious of mechs but he had seen countless patients pass through his hands and the majority had been quite a lot more religious than Ratchet himself had been. Humans, he had found, were no different, and while most things regarding them were handled by the human medics on base, there had been occasions where Ratchet had stepped in. His size had been a problem at times but that minor issue had been outweighed by whatever other issues had brought the human to him in the first place. Sam, for one, had admitted the second time he showed up for medical attention that he had already spent enough time in the human infirmary, and the fourth time that after what he went through at the hands of the small Decepticon doctor, Ratchet's far larger build was a comfort. Mikaela, for another, simply seemed fascinated with watching him at work, even when her injuries were the ones he was working on.

Ratchet had his Cybertronian patients and his regular human ones as well and so he had eventually spent a little spare time researching what he was actually dealing with beyond the mere physical aspect in an attempt to understand their small, fragile allies better... and against all logic, it was a fragment of a passage in one of those religious records that now whispered through this processors and made him stare at his tools with dim optics without truly seeing them as he waited for the human bond-mate of William Lennox to appear.

_Physician,_ that voice quietly taunted in a voice that sounded uncomfortably like Starscream's distinct vocaliser,_ heal thyself._

It had been easy to forget, so long ago. Civil unrest had turned into open war, he had been newly-promoted Chief Medical Officer for a hospital that had little to no experience with all-out wartime emergencies, and by the time they had been forced into an effective, experienced medical unit, he had already begun to adapt again. He had earned a reputation for being short-tempered, for having an aim with a wrench that could drop a mech with painful accuracy if they made too much of a pest of themselves, and that had stayed with him even as the effects of Seeker-adapted programming faded and his temper cooled, even if it never vanished completely. The programming that allowed him to adapt was the same that ensured that it would happen without demanding overly much of his attention – he was aware of it if he really focused on it but for the most part it simply happened and wasn't much different from simply choosing to behave in a different way than he used to.

He had never minded. Most medics carried the programming because it made them that much better at their duty and for the most part, it meant only minor changes to their personality. It didn't rewrite who they were but simply allowed specific aspects of their personalities to strengthen as was needed – Seeker-influenced programming born from the unusual amount of time Ratchet had spent with them had been in the more extreme end of things, but hadn't shown something that hadn't already been there; temper, dominant mannerisms, and ego included. Once he had left them, that set of changes had eventually gone dormant but with the Autobots being as varied of a group as they were and it being a wartime hospital, no proper new set had emerged to take its place and so it had remained – dormant and all but forgotten but still very much capable of being triggered again with the right influence... such as, for instance, a newly-onlined Seeker that ran on little more than basic programming and understood only the most straight-forward of instructions.

If their human-turned-Seeker truly had a list of issues to bring up with Primus, Ratchet was quickly finding entries of his own to add to that. That adaptable programming was not particular about what it did. It did not pick and choose what it felt was needed. Programming came as a packaged deal, with some sections of programming feeding on themselves and other lines and sections to create something new entirely and to pick out only certain parts to mirror was likely to do more harm than good in the long run. It wasn't as strong as what it based itself on, would never even approach it, but it was still there, for better or for worse, and what had made sense for a Seeker-trained medic in a pre-War world wasn't always welcome in an Autobot CMO, wartime or not.

Seeker temper, for one. Seeker-ego. A Seeker's strong view of kin, their drive to claim someone strong and competent and dangerous for mate or interface partner...

... And the painful, unwanted, treacherous bit of programming that reminded him that Starscream as Air Commander had rule of all who were of Seeker-kin and Seeker-programming, and that included the ground-pounders that had lived with them, whatever their build or function or faction.

_Hatchet,_ that voice mocked again, low and compelling and nauseating._ Flightless, Seeker-trained, half-kin **traitor**. An Autobot medic with the bedside manners of a Decepticon. What right do you have to keep a Seeker from its proper place? Too weak and cowardly to be kin and too addicted to let go? Medic, fix yourself._

It wasn't Starscream, of course, was nothing more than his own nagging programming letting its disgust be known, and he forced it aside and strengthened the shields that kept the bond between himself and their recharging Seeker contained. And maybe that was why he had been so distracted that he didn't notice the human appear in the door, small alerts in his processors easily drowned out by far heavier programming that demanded his attention, and it wasn't until she knocked hard on the door frame and the sound of approaching footsteps followed without waiting for a response that he realised he was no longer alone in the room.

The footsteps stopped and blue optics returned to their normal intensity as they focused on her, and it also wasn't until then that he realised how little he had actually been in contact with her, even before their Seeker-related situation had begun. Unlike Mikaela, she wasn't part of NEST and her only connection to them was through the husband who had fought at their side since before that alliance had ever even been made official. She was passably familiar with Ironhide and less so with the rest of them, and only now, watching the small human female, did Ratchet realise how little he truly knew about her and how much of a task he had ahead of him with her Seeker-husband so determined to keep her.

Human watched medic watched human and finally she broke the silence, arms wrapped around herself in what Ratchet recognised as a gesture of uncertainty in her kind. "Where is Will?"

"In recharge," Ratchet responded, still watching the small human. She was alone, her sparkling presumably in recharge as well or in the care of someone trusted, but while what he knew of human body language showed uncertainty, there had been no hesitation in her footsteps and the knocks on the door had been strong and firm. Uncertain, perhaps, but not weak. Never weak, if a Seeker had chosen her for a mate.

She nodded slightly in acknowledgement and presumably to let him know she understood what he was talking about, Cybertronian-influenced terms or not. "Bumblebee said you wanted to see me."

Not quite a question, not giving any indication of whether or not she had any idea of why she had been summoned – even if Ratchet strongly suspected she knew it was about more than a mere medical check-up, judging from her mannerisms – and he wondered fleetingly just how much she had learned from her husband. It could have been written off as nothing but uneasiness about the whole situation, uncertainty about how to handle it all and still being unsettled by the presence of alien beings, but he couldn't shake the suspicion that there was more. He had summoned her, not the other way around, and now she was waiting for him to make that first move rather than give up any advantage she might have. She was used to keeping secrets, he realised. Too used to it, perhaps, if she was unwilling to trust even them... or used enough to the workings of the military that she wasn't going to believe they had William's best interests at heart until she had seen proof herself, allies or not.

Suddenly curious as to just how much of a match for her husband she was, he held down his hand in a silent offer to lift her up and she hesitated for a second before she accepted – not out of fear but of simple caution, if her expression was anything to go by, and he put her gently on the Cybertronian-sized table as he responded to her not-quite-question.

"You felt it when Will scanned for you. I simply wish to make sure no harm came to you from it. His Seeker half can be a bit too enthusiastic at times and doesn't always remember that humans are a fragile species when compared to us."

"Like the Twins?" Calm, neutral – mild, even – and she continued before he had the chance to respond to that one, changing the subject with an ease that he was certain came from practice. "I didn't feel much when Will scanned for me. Until Bumblebee asked me if I'd felt anything, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me. He didn't mean anything bad with it, I could feel that much when I think about it, he just couldn't sense me and was worried about where I was at. Nothing happened. I feel just the same as I did before."

She was different from Mikaela or Sam or the NEST personnel that Ratchet came into contact with – be it by current circumstances or simply a matter of a very different kind of personality, and personally he suspected it to be a combination of both – and he adjusted his own approach accordingly, sensing her out as much as he knew she did to him in turn.

"He meant no harm," Ratchet agreed, "but he is still unfamiliar with his abilities and by all rights, he should not have been able to do what he did. Bumblebee can pinpoint his charges' location but they carry an implant to enable that in the first place."

Sarah Lennox stayed silent at that – Mikaela, Ratchet couldn't help but note, would have asked a dozen questions already – and the medic waited for another second for a possible response before he held up a scanner. "With your permission?"

The human nodded – not suspicious enough to ask for further details about what, exactly, he would be doing, and that was a beginning, at least – and he let the scanner run through its battery of tests aimed at humans. It was significantly slower than it would have been to simply hook up to another mech's diagnostics systems but still fast to a human, and she blinked in surprise when the small instrument emitted a soft sound and Ratchet lowered it again to look at the results.

Glyphs scrolled by and a whole range of perfectly average readings was all he had to show for his efforts long moments later. Normal readings. Utterly normal, at that – not even what they had learned to consider a normal baseline reading for the NEST personnel stationed on base with them – and Ratchet wasn't sure if he should have been surprised. After how strongly the Seeker had felt about claiming her... there was the feeling that there should have _been_ something there. Something to set her apart and mark her as something more than a plain, normal female specimen of the human species.

He turned his attention to the human again, not willing to draw any final conclusions just yet. "Have you had any physical symptoms? Headaches, nausea, a higher than normal core temperature?" No to the third one, the scanner had already told him as much, but that was only a here-and-now result and it had been...

... not that long at all since the Seeker's scan of her. He was being ridiculous, Ratchet realised, and he knew it, too, and did what he could to suppress a sigh aimed at himself as the human female shook her head.

"No. There was nothing out of the ordinary in those results, was there?"

And if he had listened to the words alone, it could have been taken as concern or an honest question but the voice more than suggested that she knew the answer already and wasn't in the least surprised by it.

"Nothing that I could find," Ratchet allowed and drew the first genuine response from his human patient as she snorted softly.

"'That you could find'," she repeated. "He's my _husband,_ Ratchet. I know you think he's something big and dangerous and unstable, and maybe he is, but he's still my husband and you weren't there to see it when you people _finally_ let me talk to him without a security detail to watch his every move. He was terrified of hurting me."

Her hands dropped and she took a step closer and if she had been Cybertronian, Ratchet knew her optics would have been glowing bright in anger. Human eyes weren't capable of the same but her expression and voice carried over her anger just fine as it was, though.

"So maybe he has wings," she continued, hard and biting and unrelenting. "So maybe he looks like the jet-things you spend so much time trying to shoot out of the sky. If you people are so highly evolved and we're so primitive, then why are you the ones judging him on how he looks? He has blue eyes and that stupid insignia you all wear. Isn't that good enough? Why's _Bobby_ the one who looked like Christmas had arrived early when you finally decided to let Will be around humans again? Why's their team the ones that can't wait to see what he can do with that stupid test flight dummy you have Mikaela working on? I don't care what he looks like, Ratchet. He's still my husband and the father of my child and I'll fight for him if I have to."

And judging by the Seeker's strong response to her, that feeling was mutual, but Ratchet wasn't about to offer any encouragements of that sort at the moment, and if had been Ironhide reacting so strongly, he would have believed it to be a result of his bond with the Seeker. Sarah Lennox was human, though, which made her response entirely her own and Ratchet wasn't sure if that was any comfort. Explaining Seeker-behaviour to people unfamiliar with them had proven enough of a pain as it was. Explaining it to someone who was already well past angry and fast moving on to furious...

"Judgement based on appearances has very little to do with it," Ratchet said, processors already fast at work to find a way to explain it without making the situation any worse. "He is a Seeker. Whatever else he has been – and might indeed still be – he is a Seeker, with Seeker programming and Seeker behaviour and Cybertronians _know_ this. He is possessive, temperamental, and irrational and nothing he or anyone else can do will change that. At best, he can keep it at a reasonable level. Our core programming is what we are, Sarah Lennox, and in the end, there is nothing we can do to change it. It will always be who we are at our core, however much we might fight it. Yes, part of him is still your husband but the rest of him is very much not."

Silence. The human female watched him with narrowed eyes and clearly considered just how much of his explanation she was willing to accept or even believe, and then she crossed her arms in a classic gesture of defiance that Ratchet was very well acquainted with after continued exposure to the younger of their human allies.

"Then I'll just get to know him again, now won't I?" It wasn't a question, either, and she continued before Ratchet could get any sort of word in. "For all of the few times you've let me seen him, I've never felt anything but safe with him, which is more than I can say about some of the rest of you. You have the _Twins_ running around out there, acting like a pair of six-year-olds brought up by rabid wolverines. What do you think would happen if they hit a human on accident when they were fighting each other? What do you think would happen if that---that two-wheeled, bladed _menace_ forgot to pay attention to where he was going? The only difference between Will and them is that he looks like a Decepticon and you're all so used to the rest of the walking disaster zones here on base that you don't even notice them anymore. I would trust him with Annabelle, programming be damned, and that's all that matters to me."

"Impressive as it sounds," Ratchet responded in a firm, quiet voice, "he is still a Seeker and your species has no experience with the breed. You have no knowledge of what they are. I commend you for your loyalty, Sarah Lennox, but you are making promises based on insufficient knowledge."

She watched him for a moment and clearly considered his words, much to Ratchet's silent relief, and then cold reason seemed to win out over raw anger as she narrowed her eyes slightly but kept her voice even.

"Then tell me what I'm dealing with. Bobby knows about as much as I do, Sam knows even less, Ironhide won't tell me anything without your permission, and Seeker or not, that man is my husband, and I can't learn a damn thing about him if you're not talking and he's terrified of hurting me."

There was the brief thought of being gentle with her but it was gone again from Ratchet's processors almost as soon as it had appeared. He could see what the Seeker saw in her. She was loyal, she was dedicated, and she was willing to go far to protect and keep the people she considered kin. A true Seeker without that human part in it would never have made a claim on her, being organic and all, but from that Seeker-human perspective, Ratchet could see what they saw that made them so fiercely determined to keep her.

He could try and ease her into understanding, try the gentle explanations as a first attempt, but if she meant what she said, he would do all of them a disfavour if he chose that course of action. She was loyal, she was relentless, and she was strong. If the Seeker intended to claim her, she would have to be. Seekers valued strength above all else, in themselves and their mates, and a human female would be no exception to that. She was strong because she would have to be and to coddle her now would do none of them any good at all.

"He is a Seeker," Ratchet finally said. "As it is, he is about as normal as he will ever be, but there is no guarantee that he will remain like that. Seeker programming might resurface to a stronger degree at a later time. As it is, he thinks himself above mere ground-pounders, he considers himself invincible, he is temperamental and possessive and will take no order that is not reinforced by a threat of violence, implied or otherwise."

It had been as much a test as the beginning of an explanation and Ratchet watched Sarah Lennox's reaction closely as he allowed her to consider those words. The muscles in her shoulders tensed slightly and her hands gripped her arms almost imperceptibly harder but the look she had levelled on him didn't waver. "Ironhide told me that the Seeker sees Annabelle as its...its sparkling."

He recognised the hesitation as the unfamiliarity with a new word that it was and he nodded.

"Its offspring. You carried her but Will contributed to her creation, so to speak. As a result, the Seeker considers Annabelle its sparkling as well. Seekers may be Decepticon by nature but they have very strong programming in regards to sparklings – their own as well as others'. I have no doubt that Will would give his life to keep your offspring safe. Understand that the Seeker would do no less." He paused, then continued in a dry voice. "I believe she will find the concept of 'dating' rather difficult to carry out with something as protective as a Seeker watching over her."

Sarah Lennox's snort at that told quite clearly that it wasn't something she was going to lose the slightest bit of sleep over and the words that followed confirmed that. "And that's bad? I've got enough in Will giving me grey hair. I don't need a teenage daughter dating bad boys to add to that." Her eyes narrowed a bit more and for a moment, Ratchet felt like nothing as much as a particularly displeasing experiment under a microscope. "And you're avoiding the topic. What aren't you telling me?"

Seeker-mate, indeed, and Ratchet's intakes vented softly in an approximation of a human sigh. "It has claimed you for a mate. We assumed you to be their bonded – a strong connection of friendship and kinship, but nothing more – but it... disagreed with that. Will still considers you his wife and I suspect that this is what made the Seeker part decide you were a mate rather than a platonic bonded, but I doubt we will ever know for sure. They have claimed you for a mate, Sarah Lennox, and this is not necessarily a good thing."

"Explain." Short, chipped – so very much like her husband in a bad mood in that moment that it made Ratchet's spark twist painfully, and then he pushed those emotions aside and focused on the conversation.

"You are obviously aware of the... physical issue already. Seekers are possessive. If you kept away from it, with an ocean or a continent between you if at all possible, there would be some hope that it would only infrequently seek you out to ensure that you and your offspring were well. You would be able to have some approximation of a normal life. As a widow at first and later on with a new husband, if that was what you wished, but outside of the rare, occasional visits from Will and the Seeker, you would be able to regain somewhat of a normal life again. If you remain in even moderately close proximity to it, it will uphold its claim on you. Any non-platonic interest anyone may show in you would be punished swiftly by it, be it from a human or a Cybertronian. They are violent and possessive and do not tolerate what they see as inferior beings showing interest in what is theirs."

The human female pursed her lips in clear displeasure but didn't say anything and Ratchet pressed on. "It is unlikely we could make it change its mind about you as its mate and even if we did, there would be the very real risk that it would still take an interest in any future relationships of yours. That is your choice, Sarah Lennox. They are violent and possessive and do not easily relinquish a claim on anything again, mates least of all. Seekers mate for life. If you stay near them – if you accept their claim – you will never be able to have another non-platonic relationship, physical or otherwise, without the very real risk that the Seeker will find out and take appropriate action. The appropriate punishment in their culture of anyone non-Seeker initiating that sort of contact with a claimed mate is offlining. Immediate offlining, if the offending ground-pounder was lucky, which was not always the case. In more human terms, if you ever initiated intimate physical contact with another being again, it would be far more merciful to simply take a gun to them yourself."

"And you think I've been taking men to my bed left and right while Will's been out here fighting at your side?" Low, quiet – deadly quiet – and if Ratchet had still had any doubts left about the Seeker's reasons, that vanished the last of them.

Seeker-mate, he realised, right down to the strength, the temper, the loyalty, and the utter lack of reason they were capable of when something offended them, imagined or otherwise.

And just like that, he knew, the issue was settled. There were still explanations to finish, but there wasn't any doubt left about the outcome. Not anymore.

"No," he responded calmly and resolved to handle that issue before it could go any further. "An impressive jump of logic, granted, but not what I implied. If Will had truly died, you would have grieved but presumably, eventually, have married again. Humans are a social species and he would have wanted you to be happy."

Slightly mollified, some of the tensions in the female's shoulders eased and the anger in her eyes faded marginally. "But he's not dead. I don't care what he is, Ratchet. He's still _my husband._ Yes, I liked the way he looked as a human but I didn't marry him just because he was attractive. I married him because I loved him enough to accept that he spent months at a time in some hellhole somewhere and that he might die there, too, because that was who he was and I knew that when I said 'I do'. Do you think I would have left him if he came home in a wheelchair? If he'd never be able to walk again? And don't answer that because frankly, I don't want to know."

Silence. It was a lost argument, Ratchet knew, and while he knew that a good part of her anger was due to having to keep those emotions locked up since that fatal battle as well as an almost complete lack of information offered, it didn't make it any easier.

It also didn't change the fact that there were still a few more issues to cover.

"Seekers are not monogamous," he continued. "He _will_ claim mates among the mechs here, however much he might deny you the right to see others."

The anger in her eyes flared again before it was reined back in with visible effort.

"Then we'll deal with that, too. I don't _care,_ Ratchet. I don't care what he looks like, I don't care what his programming is, and I don't care in the _slightest_ what you think. He is my husband and I won't leave him. Learn to live with that because I intend to." One, two steps, and she released her tight grip on herself to gesture at the door. "Now put me down again. _Our_ daughter needs me. It's past her bedtime and Bobby tends to forget that. If you want to insult me some more, we can take round two tomorrow. Floor. _Now._"

Too stunned to be much aware of what he was doing, Ratchet moved on habit alone as he gently placed the human on the ground again and watched her stalk off... and only then did he realise how perfectly her demands had hit his Seeker-affected bits of programming, however unintended it might have been.

She was small, she was human, she was fragile, she was short-lived, but she cared no less for William Lennox than Ironhide did, in her own, human way. Ironhide had proven his sincerity in the code to his spark-cage that now lay nestled around Ratchet's own spark; one transmission all that would be needed to leave him as vulnerable than any sparkling. She had been willing to swear off any close, physical human contact for the rest of their lifetime if that was what was necessary to keep him.

Ratchet wasn't certain that either of them truly knew what they had offered but then, there was little he could do about that. Time would tell and in the end, whatever the Decepticons had planned might make the point moot regardless. He had done what he could for now. He might possibly take Sarah Lennox up on her offer of a round two later but for now, he was quickly developing a processor ache, and with one last look at the empty doorway, he shook his head and went to close the door for the night.

Recharge beckoned and he wasn't about to fight it.


	27. Chapter 24

**A/N:** I updated the story info in chapter 1 now that I know for the most part where the story is going. Most of it is probably blatantly obvious by now but I figured it would be nice to warn any potential new readers of the risk of three/four/moresome pairings in the fic *cough*

The outline of this chapter and the next was most generously supplied by Eowyn77 (she suggested a bunny and it took a rather large bite out of my behind, the fanged, furry menace X.x). It was supposed to have been just one chapter but at the rate it was going, it would have been way too much to finish in one week. So, 4k of chapter now and the rest in a week when I hopefully get Ironhide to cooperate and get the chance to brush up a little on writing conversations with more than just two people involved ;)

* * *

Dawn broke one hundred and sixty miles above Diego Garcia the following morning, white and cold and blinding, to burn away the dark of night and send thermometers slowly inching upwards again so many, many miles below on the flat, little island that wouldn't see actual sunlight for a good while yet. If he dropped fast enough, Will knew, he could easily catch up with it – race the sunrise, slide from light and to the shadow of almost-dawn and outrun it all – but it was an idle thought and forgotten a moment later as flawless expanses of alien metal moved in the thin air and made his wings and the glass of his cockpit shine with a cold intensity that stunned him.

He knew the theory, of course. He could access the internet. There was more than he had ever wanted to know about the atmosphere of their little home planet – or _any_ planet, for that matter – but he was a Seeker now and Ratchet had been firm about it. If he was going to be let loose, he had slagging well _better_ know what he was doing, and Will had agreed because there was little else he could do.

It was cold, it was bright, it was hostile, and space above was impossibly dark, and nothing in the massive bundles of data he'd gotten to sort through had prepared him at all for it. It was forty miles further up than he had ever been before and as optics adjusted and engines sang, there was nothing but the sheer joy of it all and the knowledge that this realm was indisputably _his._

Satellites and a space station somewhere above him, humanity and ground-pounders left somewhere far below him, and even the thought of Soundwave up there, keeping an optic on him, didn't particularly bother his mood this morning.

The Seeker paused at the thought of that particular 'Con, a flicker of interest at the thought of something as strange as the communications officer, and Will strongly suspected that it was the wings more than anything that caused the interest.

A surge of temptation, the sudden urge to head straight up and find the dark 'Con against the background of space and stars and infinitely small flickers from satellites, challenge the flier-that-wasn't to keep up with a _real_ Seeker without the use of pathetic, worthless Earth-based technology, but it was gone again a moment later as the Seeker was once more distracted by the sky above them.

Their headache, processor-ache, whatever it had been was long gone and all that had been left when they had come out of recharge had been the increasingly familiar instinct to fly. There was the nagging, vague feeling of too much energy slowly building again as well but it was still faint enough not to bother him and he was determined to ignore it for at least a little while – a moment of quiet before he got the joy of sorting that little headache out again. He had ignored the energy build-up, blocked any non-Autobot frequencies to keep Starscream from getting any ideas, and the Seeker hadn't even objected to any of it but just offered a content purr at the freedom of the sky.

It had still been dark when he had come out of recharge, it had stayed dark as they'd refuelled and taken off and it hadn't been until they were well into their steep climb that the sky had turned rapidly from darkness to dawn and then to sudden, blinding sunrise with a speed that had surprised him.

It was cold, it was bright, it was silent, but they weren't alone, not completely. Ratchet was watching, Will knew – the medic had been up by the time they were ready to take off and they had alerted him through their bond so he could keep an eye on things and not tear into them later for being reckless and impulsive. Ratchet was watching, Soundwave was watching, and the Seeker half couldn't resist the temptation and threw them into a sharp roll before it settled back into their usual, steady course again.

Showing off, Will had quickly realised, was a big part of Seeker culture and the Seeker's gleeful roll had reminded him of Ratchet's words now that his brain could focus on something other than stretching his wings again.

_Is that what a mating flight is? _he asked. _Showing off?_

He'd gotten more than a few mental images of peacocks waving their tail-feathers around and maybe it wasn't that far from the truth, everything considered. He didn't have feathers, true, but he did have wings and the Seeker did have a border-line unhealthy fascination with proving its superiority in the air.

_Pride. Claiming. We show skills so our claim will not be challenged,_ the Seeker murmured and sure, it didn't have much actual experience to draw on but he got some pretty clear images of what it wanted, anyway. They had shown off a bit before. This wouldn't be that much different, just... a bit closer to ground, maybe. Close enough that the intended mate could actually see it... the intended mate and everyone else, for that matter. Why have to re-stake a claim repeatedly when you could just make sure to do it right the first time around?

Some of it came instinctively, some of it he was still unsure of at best, and he didn't want to think about how lost about the whole thing he would have been without their CMO around to fill in the blanks for him. The Seeker, however much it might be evolving, still had only basic programming to lean on. The rest had to be taught and Ratchet was, apparently, the only non-Decepticon mech around with any clue about what was going on... and even then, he could only explain and describe. He couldn't actually take to the sky and show how it was done, like a Seeker could have.

Then again, he knew what it was supposed to look like, didn't he? He knew enough about the bird-brains that he'd probably seen it at least a few times, what with their tendency to show off at the drop of a hat.

_We prove superiority,_ the Seeker huffed, but for the first time Will got the impression that it was meant in good fun more than anything and not actually intended to be taken seriously. It was another reminder that whatever thing it was that he shared his brain with, it was learning, and learning fast, and a moment later he felt a flicker of smug amusement before they turned sharply in a half-loop and headed back towards the island again before they got too far out.

It felt strangely normal on some level. It probably shouldn't, with such a big change and such a short amount of time to adapt in, but maybe that was the Seeker at play, or programming, and it probably didn't matter that much as it wasn't like Will could do that much about it, anyway.

It felt strangely normal and still strangely not, with the constant presence of the bond with Ratchet in the back of his mind as he got used to it. The bond with Ironhide was there, too, but they were used to that, had made it a part of themselves, and now their focus was on the new bond and the small but distinct differences between it and the one with Ironhide. Both strong, both unrelenting, but the feel was different - cool against hot, and pliant against unyielding, however unbreakable both of them were. The need to claim dominance, to submit, to _fight_ with Ironhide and... something else with Ratchet. If he had been human, maybe he would have used some kind of friendship to describe it but Seekers didn't have a word for that and so he settled for what the Seeker already called him - their kin, their _bonded_, and what he knew was a likely future mate to join the mech that the Seeker had already claimed.

_**Mate,**_ the Seeker objected in response to anything but utter certainty of their future claiming of the medic, and when he hesitated, he felt it frown instead. _You like. We like. We claim._

Flickers of memories, of the heating fans that had started on accord of Will, of the raw need for the human-like, gentle kind of physical touch that was so unfamiliar to Cybertronians and which only Ratchet had shown him so far, and still Will hesitated.

He was still tempted to argue that their resident terror of a medic was just a friend, Seeker-appropriate term or not, but then, it wasn't even true. Normal friends didn't do the Cybertronian version of the Vulcan mind meld, and normal friends did not ask for interfacing instructions unless they were the type of friends that came with some very intimate benefits. Ironhide was easy to put into a mental box - mate, future interface partner, need and desire and trust and _want_ in the raw kind of way that characterised everything about his Seeker half - but Ratchet wasn't. Ratchet was something different and it was evidence of how much of his brain that had gotten tangled up in Seeker issues that it took him long seconds to recognise it for what it was - a strange kind of half-human, half-Seeker based attraction that drew as much from the human side as from the Seeker one.

_Compromise,_ the Seeker explained with unusual patience as the penny finally dropped. _We claim. _

'We', Will realised a half-second later. It wasn't just randomly going after someone who happened to be able to kick its aft. It had put actual thought into it and had enough of a functioning sense of... whatever passed for logic with a Seeker that since it got to claim Ironhide, then Will should get to decide on the second mate and had based its suggestion on the only time it had seen _Will_ react to anyone, rather than just be dragged along for the ride.

It could have gone after Optimus Prime but hadn't, because the mech wasn't even on the list of mates that Will would as much as reluctantly consider, and instead it had chosen a weaker potential mate because that was the one that the human side had reacted to and it had gotten enough of a sense of compromise and fear of Ratchet hammered into it that it was willing to go along with that in return.

It liked Ratchet, Will could tell as much – it respected the medic's ability to put it in its place and take control, and the sheer stubbornness it would have taken to survive as a medic for so long in a war as violent and brutal as that – but when it came down to it, its choice would have been Optimus Prime for status and strength and sheer, overwhelming power and it had chosen against it for the sole reason that Will would not have agreed.

_Compromise,_ the Seeker repeated. _They are bonded. Bonded are good mates. We claim._

Will was about to argue but the words died before he could even complete them, some objection or another that evaded him before he could grasp it, and it didn't even matter because he also realised with sudden, Seeker-sparked clarity that the argument had already been settled. He had asked for instructions in whatever passed for sex for Cybertronians, he'd followed up on that with a bond he'd suggested and agreed to and completed of his own, free will, and the rest... it was a formality, nothing more. Bonded and a very likely future interface partner...

The conclusion that followed made him groan and however much he suspected he really didn't want to hear the answer, he asked the question, anyway.

_Does **Ratchet** know he's already a mate?_

Bemusement followed from the Seeker – Ratchet knew Seeker-programming, Ratchet knew Seeker culture, so of _course_ he would know about this, too – and only the fact that Will was in his alt-mode kept him from facepalming at that.

Right. Claim the medic for a mate without asking and assume he knew what he was getting into by agreeing to the bond, and maybe he did and maybe he didn't and frag it all to the _Pit_, but life had been so much easier as a human.

Waiting wasn't going to do any of them any good, and the Seeker obviously wasn't about to ask, so Will mentally steeled himself and cautiously poked the bond with Ratchet. Maybe he still had slagtastic control and maybe they would end up with Ironhide being an unwilling audience to the whole thing, but at least they got the added advantage of emotions and not just voice-only as the comm-link offered.

_Will?_

Something stirred in the back of his mind when Ratchet responded, a nagging drive to _claim_ before someone else was stupid and suicidal enough to try and steal the medic away from his rightful Seeker mate, and Will didn't even try to hide it. There was curiosity from Ratchet, an unspoken question, and Will just pointed a mental finger at the currently offending bit of Seeker programming and let Ratchet work out the rest. He probably knew more about the stuff than Will did, anyway.

_I'm sorry,_ he added with a sigh. _I had no idea._

It took less than a second for Ratchet to do the math and Will wasn't sure it if was a good or a bad thing that the first emotion that followed was honest-to-Primus amusement.

_Ah. I had forgotten about that part of it. You have nothing to apologise for. I should have warned you about it, I had simply forgotten about that particular part of their programming. They can have a very simplistic world-view at times and your Seeker is younger than most._ The amusement faded a bit but still lingered and brushed aside the fear-dread-worry that had accompanied Will's discovery. _It had already shown its interest in me. Among Seekers, the step from an attractive bonded you would like to interface with and to mate is very, very small. It could have been a problem if I had had an interface partner your Seeker would not have agreed with but we are all well aware of how attracted it is to Ironhide._

The Seeker offered a feeling of silent agreement – mates who had already bonded among themselves were a far stronger match than mates that had not – and then it settled down again with a pleased impression and wrapped its presence around both of the bonds in an equally silent claim of ownership.

Ratchet undoubtedly felt it but didn't remark on it as he continued.

_The main question here is you, Will. We already know that your Seeker would in no way object to claiming another mate. The question that remains is you._

A silent alert let him know that he was getting close to the outer limit he had set for himself and he executed another sharp roll and felt g-forces make the world spin before they settled down again to circle the island far, far below in a lazy corkscrew pattern. He was evading the question, if just a little bit, and he knew it and sighed before he finally continued.

_Me, the human, still has a problem seeing mechs as attractive on a physical level past the wicked weapons and the paint-jobs. My brain still thinks I'm human for the most part and that's not even getting into the fact that I still consider myself married and the thought of actual interfacing makes me worry about cheating on Sarah, however much I know that I'll end up trying it sooner or later. That said... _he paused and shrugged mentally and hoped the emotion carried across to the medic. _It took me a while to figure out but you're a lot more physical than the rest of the 'Bots around. I know you all like to rough-house and all and maybe it's a medic thing, but with you, it feels human. Actual physical contact of the nice kind. Maybe I'm a Seeker now but there's still some human parts left in there and as it turns out, I need those human things just as much as I did before._

_And for a mate?_

Will paused, wondered for a second how to actually put it, and then decided to settle for plain, normal and straight-forward. _We're already bonded and I'd twitch at the thought of interfacing whether we were mates or not. Yeah, I know you can't just break a bond or kick out a mate again if you change your mind but I doubt I will. I trust you, I like you... if you're willing to deal with a pissy-aft, irrational piece of scrap metal, then I'm willing to give it a go. We're mostly there as it is, anyway._

_How very romantic,_ Ratchet drawled silently and let enough emotions through that Will could pick up on the dry, amused sarcasm even if the voice hadn't told him all he needed._ We may have to record this as a textbook example of the proper wooing of a bondmate._

_I'm an Army grunt,_ Will snorted. _And the first mate the Seeker and I could agree on was Ironhide. All the wooing you need to do there involves a trip to the shooting range and an offer to polish his cannons._

_Or him making enough of a pest of himself that I decided to remind him of the natural order of life in the infirmary,_ Ratchet said dryly. _To which his response was to let his cooling fans show me just how much he enjoyed that part of it. You're right. With that for a role model, I suppose it could be a lot worse._

The bond and Will's processors settled into comfortable silence as Ratchet let him consider that, and then he brushed against their connection again with a soundless sigh.

_So what am I supposed to do now? Court the both of you? The Seeker doesn't know much more about mating flights than I do, Ratchet. It knows how to show off just fine but that's about it. I know we look like a Seeker and have that basic programming going on but we're still lost when it gets more complicated than 'fly' and 'mine' and 'mate'. _

And even that was pushing it sometimes but that was mostly the Seeker getting used to the brave new world around it and Will couldn't blame it. He was lost enough when it came to his new body and the programming that came with it. What the Seeker was dealing with in getting used to an actual, physical world, he couldn't even begin to imagine. All in all, he figured, they were doing a pretty damn spectacular job with what they had to work with.

_The offer of instructions stands,_ Ratchet replied. _Extending that offer to include instructions in what I can teach you about Seeker culture and way of life would probably benefit all of us. I can't fly but I can still share what I learned from observing, mating flights and all included. Ideally, you would have a Seeker to teach you but..._

But it was war and a ground-bound medic with a bit of experience in Seeker-matters was the best they could do and both Will and Ratchet knew that, too. Even the Seeker part of him didn't argue but settled for silent agreement and let Will convey their decision.

_I'll have to learn, to all of the above, but not now. I know I'm mostly a Seeker now, anyway, but I don't want to give it any more of a hold on me right now than I need to. Not with Starscream out there looking to take advantage of it. I need the mating flight because I need to make sure we claim Ironhide right so there isn't going to be any kind of doubt that the 'Cons could exploit but the rest can wait. It'll have to._

Of course, there was also the very real risk that it wasn't going to be an issue after meeting the 'Cons on the account of him most likely being dead but then it wouldn't be a headache, anyway, so it wasn't something he was going to worry much about now. There were plenty of other issues to demand his attention. Ratchet had probably picked up on that, too – Will, despite the best of his efforts, still had more than a few issues with consistently shielding one bond and never mind two of the damn things – but he didn't comment on it and instead just sent an impression of hesitant agreement through the bond.

A very uncharacteristic hesitation at that but it made sense with the words that followed, careful and measured as he clearly kept a close eye or ear or spark or whatever on Will's reaction.

_I wouldn't normally suggest it but Ironhide needs lessons almost as much as you do and the fact remains that he is not a stranger in my berth. If you are willing to go along with it without retreating to let your Seeker part take over, there may be a way to handle most of those problems, courtships included. _

Images followed – of Ratchet's murmured instructions across their bond as they defied every law of gravity and physics, of the surge of Ironhide's emotions and attraction, of strength and trust and loyalty as his mind was his and the Seeker's and Ratchet's and Ironhide's and he wasn't even sure who was who and where and why anymore – and he shuddered in response and wasn't sure if it was in need or disgust or something else entirely.

_Sure, why not? Let's just add a threesome to the list and have fun explaining that one to Sarah. That's just slagging **peachy.**_

_I sincerely doubt it would result in interfacing,_ Ratchet replied in a dry voice. _And if it did, I could shield my side of the bond long before it became relevant. As for your human mate, she wasn't too pleased with the implication that she might be better served keeping an ocean between herself and you. You would be surprised at how... tenacious she can be. _

_As a matter of fact, no, I wouldn't. I married her,_ Will pointed out. _I know the 'Iron Will' nickname that made the rounds before all of this but you gave it to the wrong Lennox. _A pause, wondering about the words, then- _Not pleased, huh? _

_Not in the slightest and saw fit to take it out on me. I explained the issue with multiple mates; she was quite vocal about you still being her husband, not caring in the slightest about said mates, and finding a way to make it work regardless._

Will nodded and couldn't quite keep the warmth and adoration at the thought of her from leaking through the bond. _I'll talk with her._

Talk with her, make sure she understood the situation and knew what she was getting into, and selfishly hope that she would stick to not caring at all and that they could somehow still make it work, Annabelle and Sarah and everything, despite of the very real risks he would face whenever Megatron made his move.

Ratchet, bless his spark, said nothing about that, and finally Will nodded again, a bit of the uncertainty in his mind fading at that reassurance.

_So, hypothetically... if you had to show us how to do this whole mating flight thing..._

_Hypothetically?_ Ratchet sounded amused. _Hypothetically, I would tell you to keep your shields down around both of your bonds and then I would remind you that you would easily be able to time your descent so you would catch the sunrise when it reaches Diego Garcia, and that there is not a cloud in sight to ruin the view. Hypothetically._

Hypothetically.

Will watched the Seeker, the Seeker watched Will, and then the world twisted as they sent their alt-mode into a wing-straining turn and one hundred and sixty miles turned to one fifty nine, fifty eight, fifty seven as engines roared a furious challenge and they went straight down-

- And across their bond, he heard Ratchet honest-to-Primus _laugh._


	28. Chapter 25

**A/N:** Sick author is siiick. And whiny, and pathetic, and out of the really good ice cream. Beta is sick, too (*cough* the one big disadvantage of a live-in beta). As a result, there might be some few mistakes in here that we overlooked (hopefully not too many) and I am hideously behind on review responses. I am so, so sorry and promise to catch up this weekend when my stupid, sadistic cold is hopefully gone again and I can actually string more than two coherent sentences together without having to count the typos and brain-farts by the dozen.

* * *

This time, Ironhide was out of recharge when free-fall struck and this time he got the clear impression that there was absolutely nothing accidental about it, either. He was about to snap back and tell Lennox to get a slagging grip on the bond but something made him pause. Something was different, something deliberate and challenging and _smug_ and he made his way outside just in time to see a silver arrow shoot straight down, see the dawn catch up with it and silver turn the molten gold of sunrise, and then the jet broke off at the last possible second.

The world was noise, the roar of engines and wind and raw fury, and then their Seeker was off again in a dizzying display of death-defying stunts to send Ironhide's bond and processors reeling and it wasn't until he reached out for something to steady himself and felt Ratchet grip his arm that he realised he wasn't alone. Oh, there were people around him, mech and human, because fragging _everyone_ had stopped to stare at the display, but he felt Ratchet through their bond as well and there was an understanding whispering across it that told him beyond any doubt that Ratchet actually _knew._

Up, _up, _cut the engines, feel the world slow and stop and _turn_ as gravity took over and he fell backwards into thin air even as he stayed on his feet and his processors were spinning and he was torn between the desire to shoot the slagger out of the sky and the warring emotions that were half his, half Will's, and something else that he hadn't even noticed before-

- And Ratchet's fingers dug into plating with a strength the medic rarely showed and forced Ironhide's attention back on solid ground.

"_Focus._" The voice was low, urgent, unyielding, and enough to snap Ironhide's mind back into something that approached coherency again as the medic continued. "I know that ground-pounder programming can't let you appreciate it as it was supposed to be but try to focus, Ironhide. He is doing this for you. Focus, keep your feet on the ground, and learn to appreciate it. If you intend to remain a proper mate to him, you will have to learn to handle this sort of thing."

One second, then two, and Ironhide forced himself to ignore the sound of powerful jet engines and the surges from their bond, and finally he felt his processors clear again to a point where he could actually focus.

The emotions from the bond were still there and it took him until then to realise that it wasn't just the human-turned-Seeker being a pest through a bond, either, but that their medic was in on it, too, and it wasn't strictly feelings of support flowing through their connection. Old enough to shield a bond, his slagging _aft._

"What the _frag_ is that pest doing?" His voice came out more unsteady than he had hoped and Ratchet clearly noticed, too, because the pain in the exhaust pipe of a medic had the audacity to smirk at that as he let go of Ironhide's arm and the world spun around him again.

"For someone who claims to like Seekers, I'm surprised you have never witnessed a mating flight before. Granted, he is a bit new to it all and doesn't have the finesse that Starscream or his trine used to possess but even then, it should be blatantly obvious... even to a front-liner."

Will and the Seeker – either or both and Ironhide didn't know and couldn't care the _least_ bit less about it at that point in time – pulled hard on the bond again in a way that the weapon specialist wasn't even sure was actually possible, and it took every bit of self-control and stubbornness he had to keep from being swept away in it all. Energon pumping through lines and systems at a frantic pace, cooling fan fighting desperately to keep overworked systems from overheating as well, and even standing still on the ground, Ironhide felt the effects of the mad acrobatics on his own body, something raw and fierce and dangerous and as likely to croon at his touch as it was to tear him apart, and-

- down, _down_, and his eyes brightened in a flare of blue as he got the full force of his flying mate's exhilaration in between a roll that almost let them sweep against the waves of the lagoon and the fuel-churning climb that followed-

- and if he ended up purging those fuel tanks, someone was getting their afts kicked from now and well into the Primus-fragged _matrix_, Pit-spawned mate or not.

Ratchet, in one of his usual stunning displays of sadism, just laughed at him and it wasn't until then that Ironhide realised he had spoken it out loud, or over their bond, or maybe Ratchet was just a slag-aft mindreader like the worthless 'Con that was still in orbit, and frag it all to the _Pit _but he was too old for that sort of thing.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to pursue a Seeker," Ratchet pointed out with deceptive mildness and a mercilessness that would have made Megatron downright proud.

"Seeker-programming, my aft," Ironhide snorted. "The only reason you're still online is because the Pit's afraid you're going to take over."

_Mechs are from Primus, medics are from the Pit? _Will suggested over their bond, and the smug feeling from Ratchet told Ironhide beyond any doubt that they were both intended to hear that.

_And Seekers are spawn of the Unmaker,_ Ironhide growled right back. _I'll have your fragging aft for this, Lennox._

It clearly wasn't a threat that was worth much without a target-locked pair of cannons to back him up because the human-turned-Seeker just laughed and then the ground dropped away under Ironhide's feet again and he gripped Ratchet's arm hard enough to leave finger-shaped dents in the process.

_You'd have to catch me first, old-timer, and you creak so much we'd hear you coming from a mile away. _A half-purr, half-smirk carried over through the bond and Will continued before Ironhide had the chance to interrupt. _You should ask Ratchet to take a look at that for you. I hear he's good with his fingers and a bit of lubricant._

One endless second of pure shock, then-

_**Lennox!**_

He got the responding laughter in stereo, from Seeker and medic both, and then the ground levelled out as the jet roared by overhead, glowing gold as the early morning sunlight caught on wings and tail fins and the already gold-tinted glass of the canopy.

Ratchet obviously picked up on it, too, as Ironhide discovered a moment later when the medic took a step closer and lowered his voice to a darker, silkier murmur that brought entirely too many memories back.

"Attractive, is he not? There is something about having a Seeker fly for you that defies any attempt to capture it in words. It's different for a ground-pounder, of course, since we can't appreciate the flight-skills involved in the same way as another Seeker could but still, the connection remains."

"You're out of your fragging mind," Ironhide said hoarsely. "Both of you. A suicidal pile of scrap metal and a medic that got his processors scrambled so much, he'd make Sideswipe look sane. Normal mechs don't enjoy being dropped in free-fall."

"Then you should learn to ground yourself and appreciate it for what it is," Ratchet murmured right back and he fragging well _knew_ the effect that voice had on Ironhide as entirely too graphic memories wandered to the forefront of his processors and the responding smirk over their bond told him that the medic had noticed, too. "He is a Seeker, Ironhide. He is displaying his skills and suitability as a mate in order to woo you."

"I thought he'd already claimed me for a mate."

"There are different levels of 'mate', and you have yet to interface," Ratchet pointed out in that same low voice. "This is the proper way to woo a mate. Traditions are important to Seekers and you can't deny that William clearly enjoys this, too."

Ironhide snorted at that. True, he couldn't deny it because the bond left absolutely no doubt that the human and the Seeker were in it together, but that didn't mean a thing in that particular case. "That's not saying much. He wasn't even sane as a human, Ratchet. If his assault on Blackout wasn't a hint, you should take a look at the NEST mission reports. He's got more lives than Starscream."

The ground lurched below his feet again but less violently than before and this time he could keep himself from getting pulled along for the flight. He could still feel it but the dominant feeling was solid ground and the knowledge that he was watching and feeling the Seeker at work and not up there in the air himself. Talking had been the right kind of distraction and the flicker of smugness from Ratchet told him the other knew it, too.

_Pit-spawned pest of a medic,_ he grumbled, mostly as a matter of principle.

_Imbecilic front-liner,_ said medic offered right back – mostly on principle, too – and the smugness faded again as he continued. _He will need those lives, Ironhide. Those lives and whatever luck he can possibly claim for this._

There wasn't much Ironhide could say to that so instead he focused completely on the jet again and felt the strange kind of stereo impressions again as he watched their Seeker throw itself into air acrobatics that defied every law of physics and felt the accompanying emotions through their bond without any kind of delay.

It was an attractive display, he couldn't deny that. Impossible to drag his optics away from, if he had to be completely honest with himself, and that was proven when he heard heavy footsteps behind him and reluctantly turned his head to realise that Optimus Prime was standing next to them and that not a single one of his sensors had alerted him.

Spawn of the fragging _Unmaker,_ every single one of the flying pests, and their Prime's patient and very clear amusement didn't help on it, either.

"I would ask in whose honour the mating flight is but I suppose it's fairly obvious, everything considered."

A snort from Ratchet, half heard and half felt, and it was a new and very unnerving feeling to have his attention torn between so many places and not be able to do a thing about it. "Will's first flight and Ironhide's first experience with it. I'd forgotten how few of the higher processor functions remain after the Seeker's influence makes itself known."

And Ironhide would have objected to that but considering that thirty-plus feet of Optimus Prime had been able to sneak up on him, it would have been somewhat of a pointless objection.

"Ground-bound mechs never possessed the programming to see those flights the way they were intended to," their Prime said quietly. "Mating flights were meant for Seekers. It is little wonder that those bound by gravity find themselves swept up in the... emotions of it all."

Another snort from Ratchet at that. "I think 'lunacy' is the term you're looking for. I know Seeker programming, Prime, and there is nothing rational left in their pretty little heads once they start on a flight like this. The only things that matter are their mate and the sky."

"And yet you let him." There was no hint of accusation in their Prime's voice but it was still a statement that demanded an explanation for their current situation and Ironhide couldn't argue with that nagging need to know in the least.

The sound barrier broke somewhere above them as Will headed straight up again and long moments passed before the medic broke the silence that followed.

"It has to be done properly, Optimus," Ratchet said quietly. "He is a Seeker. This is how it has to be."

"It will bind him to our faction," their Prime commented just as quietly. "Is he aware of that?"

Ratchet glared at him in return. "Would I have let him if he wasn't? He is my patient, Optimus. That is all you should ever need to know to answer that question."

A small, regal nod was offered in silent apology at that. "I had no doubts, old friend. Nonetheless, I had to ask."

Something flowed through the bond with the medic before it was abruptly cut off again – _understanding-weariness-regret_ – but Ironhide didn't need that to see the way Ratchet ran a hand across his face place for what it was. He had been about to go off in one of his famous fits of temper and had been stopped by reason late enough that getting it all back under control wasn't as easy as it sounded.

"Programming. I am aware. I keep forgetting how much of it is actually there. Thank you for reminding me. To answer your question, then yes. Lennox is quite aware of what he is doing. It's harder to see due to their inexperience but the human influence does show in their flight. Less than I might have liked, perhaps, but his control was surrendered willingly."

Ironhide had the very distinct and very annoying feeling of missing half the conversation, and he forced a little more of his attention away from the Seeker. A brief scan around him revealed that the humans that had stopped to watch were out of hearing range – even if their Seeker hadn't done a painfully thorough job of keeping up a near-deafening engine-roar around them almost constantly – and Ironhide's optics narrowed at the two mechs nearby.

"Did both of you scramble your processors or is it just the standard reaction to long-term Seeker-exposure?"

There was a long, shocked pause and then the clear feeling of laugher over the bond and even aeons of practice couldn't keep the slight amusement from showing in Ratchet's features. "I suppose it would explain Megatron."

Ironhide snorted and turned his full attention back to Will as the sound of jet engines approached again. Now that he was mostly able to tell his own reality from the one superimposed on it by the Seeker through their bond, he could appreciate a bit more what he saw. He had seen Seekers in combat before but that had been just that - combat and on the enemy side. There hadn't exactly been time to do anything but focus on hitting the fraggers and the few times when watching _had_ been an option, it had still been combat and obviously a long way from what the pests were capable of when they really wanted to show off. Being in friendly territory didn't hurt, either.

Another surge of vertigo as the alien jet broke off in a wing-straining turn less than a second before he would have ploughed into the ground, and then a surge of raw lust and desire to claim that was no less intense than the near-crash had been. No less intense and even more capable of affecting him as he felt Energon flow faster and his own systems heat up in response, and he couldn't quite shield the accompanying rush of memories of his hands gripping those wings and a deadly claw hooked around a main Energon line.

_If he's trying to test my patience..._ Ironhide sent darkly and felt more than saw Ratchet's answering smirk.

_Of course he is. He's a Seeker._ Ironhide's confusion - and no small amount of dawning annoyance - must have shown clearly because Ratchet focused on the jet again and continued out loud. "Mating flights serve a dual purpose. It displays their abilities in the air and thus their suitability as a mate and protector of the future family, but it also displays the abilities they may pass on to their offspring. Not all Seekers are born equal. Most of them could have trained relentlessly for their entire existence and never approached Starscream's level of skills. The programming, personalities, and abilities of the mated pair has quite a lot of influence on the gifts their sparklings will be be created with. While mechs relied on the Allspark for creation and a suitable diversity in skills, Seekers relied on themselves."

"Like the method of reproduction used by humans of this world," Optimus summarised.

"To a degree," Ratchet agreed. "They do have some control of which traits carry over. Not perfect, of course, or we would have been overrun by Starscreams by now, but some. Like... genetically modified organic creatures, to a degree. I doubt anyone but the Seekers themselves know how much control they have or if it varies from Seeker to Seeker. I certainly never found out."

"And if one mated with a ground-bound mech?"

Ratchet was silent. "No Seeker would choose to create a non-Seeker body for the sparkling they carry. The sparkling would need Seeker programming and Seeker instincts. By far the most of that sparkling's programming would come from the Seeker part of the union with only minor parts carrying over from the non-Seeker creator." He gave Ironhide a pointed look and got a huff in return before he continued. "It might result in an unusually trigger-happy Seeker or one that was more heavily armoured than the average of the breed. Some degree of speed and agility might be sacrificed in that case for something close to a ground-bound mech's class of armour in a concession to the non-Seeker mate."

The mental image of a miniature Seeker with his own style of cannons appeared in Ironhide's processors and it was every bit as bizarre as he would have imagined. The bird-brains might have issues but Ironhide was willing to admit that maybe a perfectly balanced mix of Seeker and ground-bound mech wasn't the best idea around.

Twin feelings of amusement through his bonds told him that both medic and Seeker had picked up on those images, too, and he pointedly turned his attention back to the air display and ignored their medic.

Ratchet just made an amused sound.

"Further proof that both human and Seeker are in control, Optimus. No true Seeker would have tolerated that level of distraction from its audience, and much less its mates and the one it has honoured with a flight like that. The only talking we should be doing should be praise of him."

"A valid point," their Prime agreed dryly. "They do have somewhat of an ego."

More words followed but they faded from Ironhide's attention as the full force of the Seeker's interest was turned on him. Not quite Cybertronian like Ratchet was, not quite human like the bond had felt when Lennox had held complete control but something that was a mix of everything, Cybertronian and human and something else that Ironhide assumed was that Seeker-influence rearing its ugly head.

_It's not that bad,_ Will disagreed with a flare of amusement and underscored it with a dizzying roll above their heads. _We've sort of learned to get along and compromise._

_So you're the one hitting on me now?_ Ironhide asked dryly.

A smirk was the only response he got. A smirk, followed by vivid images of control and dominance and five tons of deadly Seeker pinning him to the ground to have their way with him, demanded submission and glyphs carved into armour as marks of passion and pleasure and possession, and an all-consuming wave of _lust-_

- and as sudden as it had begun, it stopped again, cut off abruptly as their Seeker turned in mid-air to do some sort of twisted almost-somersault, transformed and landed to the sound of crushed tarmac and a tremor of the ground that was felt by everyone in the immediate area.

Blue optics burned brightly in heat and arousal and something else-

- and then Will smirked and turned his attention to Ratchet with nothing more than a smug feeling before the shielding of their bond fell heavily into place.

And the medic was in on it, too, Ironhide realised a moment later, because the Primus-damned Pit-spawn was slagging well _smirking._

"Now that you have stretched your wings for the morning, do you think you can focus enough not to pulverise the training dummy I had Jolt and Mikaela make for you?" Ratchet asked with the sort of mildness that was never good news, and Ironhide could _see_ as Will's posture changed and relaxed and he gave off the closest thing to 'utterly harmless' that any Seeker was capable of.

"I should be," he agreed with the same sort of uncharacteristic, deceptive mildness, and Ironhide simply stared as the pieces fell into place. "I think I worked off the worst of my energy. We should get going, though, I don't want to keep my team waiting. Besides, I promised Sarah she could be there, too, and Sam talked 'Bee into letting him tag along."

Ratchet nodded, all professional pride and courtesy, and Ironhide could have sworn he heard something like choked laughter from their Prime at that but the medic spoke again before Ironhide had time to say anything. "I agree. You have made good progress and being around other humans for the day will be good for you."

"I had a good instructor," Will said with all the modesty that was so very unnatural for a Seeker. "After you, sir?"

Before Ironhide had the chance to take as much as a step towards them, both Seeker and medic had transformed and left in a small cloud of dust that Ironhide was sure was very deliberate and for a moment he simply stared and wondered if he should take up pursuit or simply shoot the fraggers... and then he felt Will's shields lower again and got the clear impression that the slagger was smirking.

_I will have your aft for this, Lennox,_ Ironhide promised with a soundless growl and heard Will laugh in return.

_You already promised that once. You should make good on that or I'll think you're getting impotent. Old age catching up with you, 'Hide?_

A challenge if he had ever heard one and he felt his systems heat up slightly again at the prospect. It was clearly the human in charge, he could tell that much by now, and if that was how he wanted to play...

Ironhide offered a dark purr in return, let it find its way back through the bond, and he felt the exact moment when the human shuddered slightly and the heat from the bond kicked up a notch.

_I always keep my word. Enjoy your playtime, Will. I'll be watching._

And with a final flare of dark, heady pleasure, he brought the shields back into place as abruptly as Lennox had done. Optics burned brighter, a smirk twisting his face plates, and then he turned to their Prime and nodded slightly.

"I'll keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't do anything stupid."

Optimus Prime's nod was all the permission Ironhide needed to transform and take off in the same direction as the Seeker and medic had gone. He had looked amused enough that Ironhide figured he'd probably guessed what was going on, but that thought was gone again a moment later as he turned his attention back to their wayward little human-turned-Cybertronian.

The human was strength and stubbornness and more than worthy of his name, and he would do everything in his power to keep Ironhide on his toes, that much was clear already. The Seeker, on the other hand, would have caved and submitted.

All in all, Ironhide decided, he much preferred the challenge.


	29. Chapter 26

**A/N:** I could blame my cold for this being late but the sad fact was that one of the main fuses in the building decided to die last evening. While highly conductive to romantic dinners by candlelight and/or meeting the equally confused neighbours in the hallway, it did make finishing the chapter a bit hard *cough*. Many apologies to anyone I might have worried – I promise I'm still alive, I haven't drowned in a sea of Kleenex yet, and I've been at work to infect my colleagues like the good little worker that I am. And the next chapter should be here on Thursday again as usual.

I also noticed that my author's notes in general look like one long parade of failtacular excuses for possibly being late with a future chapter, despite this chapter being the first late one in months. I think I may fail at the whole 'author's note' thing X.x

* * *

Three years of having an alien guardian in the shape of a transforming Camaro had taught Samuel Witwicky quite a few important lessons, not least of which was the power of "Please, 'Bee?" and puppy-dog eyes... and in this case, even that wasn't enough. It had taken until he had pointed out - truthfully - that NEST team Alpha would be there for obvious reasons and never did put their weapons away, that Ironhide would be there because it was his partner and his NEST team, that Ratchet would be there as their medic, that Mikaela and Jolt would be there as said medic's apprentices, that Sideswipe would be there because Jolt would be (and Sam neatly ignored that it was because the 'Vette didn't trust Will in the least and was there solely to watch his partner's back), that Optimus would be there because it was _Optimus_... and it was around then that Bumblebee had caved with an electronic sound that Sam translated as 'All right, all right' and tried very hard not to do a little victory dance.

'Bee did mean well, after all. Sam could sort of see his logic, especially after the stuff with Sideswipe that even 'Bee's considerable sneak-skills couldn't keep from him, but it was still Will and Sam trusted him, alien robot or not.

And that was how he found himself heading out to one of the disused runways at some time in the morning that was still way too early for him, nestled safely in Bumblebee's hands and trailing along with two medics in training, said yellow and black guardian, a probably-psychotic front-liner with a sword-fetish... and one toy-sized 'Con turned Autobot, because Wheelie still wasn't going anywhere without his Warrior Goddess if he could avoid it, and Sam was pretty sure at least half the reason was because the damn thing knew it would piss off both him and 'Bee.

"So was Jetfire a prototype of a Seeker? Some ancestor or something? Or did Starscream and the others just claim the name? He didn't look much like Screamer or Will do, but that could be because of his alt-mode," Mikaela asked from up ahead, from her place in Jolt's hands and Wheelie in his alt-mode in her lap - and control or not, after seeing what the blue Autobot could do with electricity, Sam was not afraid to admit that his girlfriend had way bigger balls than he did himself. Possibly the perverted little 'Con, too, but that was probably stupidity more than balls.

"The word is different in Cybertronian," Jolt explained and made two Cybertronian sounds Sam didn't recognise. "They are two related words that are translated to the same in English since you don't have anything to properly distinguish them. A 'Seeker' referring to what Jetfire was means to seek by choice. He was given a mission but when he felt it went against his beliefs, he defied that order to seek. A 'Seeker' referring to what Will is means the lack of choice. Core programming, if you want. A Seeker like them will always seek the skies, regardless of who or where they are. To keep them from that would make them unstable at the very least."

"It would make them insane," Sideswipe said darkly. "I've seen Seekers without their wings. Offlining them would have been a mercy."

Sam shuddered slightly at the thought. It brought up more than a few images that he could have lived without but before he could change the topic, Mikaela had turned to look at Sideswipe instead.

"What about..." she trailed off, hesitant. "I mean, it wasn't always 'shoot to kill on sight', right?"

"The Deceptiscum didn't care," Sideswipe snorted. "They locked them up, anyway. If they couldn't be hacked and didn't cave to torture, the cell would get to them."

Jolt gave his partner a look, then frowned and turned his attention to Mikaela again. "We weren't much better, from what I heard. We never tortured and we never hacked, because we're not 'Cons - I mean, I guess some tried, anyway, it was war, but they always got punished - but we had to deal with Seekers in some way if we captured them and I guess someone thought it was nicer to just knock out the flight-craving bit of coding than to let them go nuts, or kill them, since we couldn't just let them go. They didn't remove it, they just... overruled it for a while, but not long enough to do anything permanent to them. I heard some of the medics used to know how to do it. Some of the really smart science mechs could work it out, too, I guess." He looked a bit uncomfortable as he glanced up ahead at the gathered group in the distance. "I don't think we could ever keep the Elite Trine, any of the three, for long and it's-it's probably a good thing. I'm sorry, Sideswipe, you know what I mean, I don't like them, I just... I didn't think about it before but Ratchet would never do it and it's messing with core programming and I know they meant it kind of well but I don't think I could do it, either. Not do it and look him in the optics again even if I could figure out how it was done."

Another snort from Sideswipe at that. "He likes the flying fraggers." There was something in his voice that Sam couldn't identify - not quite annoyance, not quite disapproval, not quite happy with it all - but even if he'd been willing to ask _Sideswipe_ about something like that, the point became moot as they came within hearing range of the gathered group of mechs and humans and Bumblebee put him on the ground again - reluctantly.

Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet - the Twins were probably around somewhere, too, and Arcee and the others, and for a moment Sam wondered where the hell Will was hiding when he caught a glimpse of F-22 grey behind Ironhide and Ratchet. He had moved exactly four steps before that bit of grey moved and Sam stopped rather abruptly as the Seeker rose from its kneeling position next to Bobby Epps and Sarah Lennox and the grey figure stretched to its full height to loom like a minor thundercloud above all but Optimus and give Sam nasty images of Starscream in his place.

A chirp behind him pulled him back to the present and he nodded and swallowed, a bit wide-eyed. "I'm fine, 'Bee, I just... forgot how huge they are up close." Tall and wide and threatening and _ohgod_- "I'm so glad he has blue optics."

A long pause and then he forced himself to grin. A bit weak, but still a grin. "I guess there's no more calling them flying Doritos?"

"Lennox would probably find it amusing but the bird-brain would not. I'm not going to save your aft if you try it, anyway," Ironhide's voice rumbled somewhere above him.

Mikaela snorted in a feminine sort of way that always left Sam baffled and then Jolt let her down and she carefully put toy-car Wheelie on the ground and let him transform. One glance at their new Seeker and he was scrambling to hide behind Mikaela's legs – and probably hump her while he was at it, Sam thought darkly.

"I'm a 'Bot! Don't shoot the red-eyed one; protect me, Warrior Goddess!"

Sam had no idea of how a Seeker could actually manage to look baffled in a way that a human could recognise, but Will managed for a moment, anyway, before he shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to whatever he'd been discussing with his human family-of-sorts.

"First time he's been out here?" one of the vaguely familiar-looking NEST guys asked – Graham, the name tag said – and that and the accent was enough to make Sam remember him as one of the survivors of Egypt.

Mikaela patted Wheelie on the head in a way that made both Sam and Bumblebee roll their eyes. "Yeah, we didn't know how that Seeker in Will's head would react to red eyes. It's okay, Wheelie. Will's a good mech, I promise, nothing's going to happen."

"Oh, that's a _Seeker,_ Warrior Goddess," Wheelie said dubiously. "They're not good mechs. They hate the grounders. Jetfire was one of the Old Ones. He was one of the Legendaries. That there's not a good mech."

"You know it's got a human personality in there, though. It's Will, you know him."

Which didn't seem to do much to encourage Wheelie to let go of Mikaela's leg.

"Yeah, Warrior Goddess, and he ain't much saner than that Seeker is."

Sam was pretty sure he heard Graham try to keep back a laugh at that but when he looked at the man again, he was pure NEST professionalism... which wasn't really saying that much, and definitely not when it came to Will Lennox's NEST team.

"Jolt, miss Banes, we've got the test dummies ready," he reported. "Ratchet ran his tests and gave his approval on the spare one you made and we have them all suited up."

Something about the voice told Sam that there was probably more than just suiting up the dolls involved in that 'ready' bit and Jolt apparently agreed because he looked curious at that. "'Ready'?"

Graham thumbed over his shoulder to where two human-shaped things had been dumped on the ground and the group moved closer almost as one as even Bumblebee and Sideswipe's issues with the whole thing got overruled by the nagging sense of a trainwreck in the making that the name-tags on the flight suits proclaimed to be Captain Crash and The Spare.

Sam stared, 'Bee stared, Sideswipe make an unimpressed sound, Jolt stared at Mikaela, and finally the only female of the group decided to ask the question that no one else seemed willing to voice. "God, you're all chickens," she muttered, then took a deep breath. "Is that... a smiley face?"

By then, the rest of Alpha Team had noticed them as well and Captain Crash was propped up between two of the soldiers, flopping arms slung around their shoulders and a firm grip on the open helmet kept the head raised to answer the question.

"Hail, Emperor. Those who are about to die, salute you," Graham said solemnly as one of his team-mates bent the test dummy's arm in some kind of vague salute and then let the arm flop back down before Ratchet stalked over and reclaimed both of the test dummies with an annoyed expression.

Sam had expected some sort of comment from someone about it – Ratchet or Epps or Will or Optimus or _someone_ – and it was only when it didn't show that he started to get the uncomfortably nagging suspicion that the smiley faces on the test dummies probably wasn't even unusual for the NEST team. Oh, sure, you had to be more than a bit off in the head to sign up for something like that voluntarily – and that Sam was still there spoke _volumes_ about his mental health as far as he was concerned, even he would admit to that – and sure, it was a bit of a weird situation they were in, even for NEST, but he got the impression that even then, that sort of thing wasn't exactly that weird.

Wheelie forgotten for the moment, Mikaela was still staring as the group of soldiers followed Ratchet like a particularly rambunctious horde of puppies. "It's a smiley face," she finally said.

"It's a smiley face," Sam agreed. "And they named him Captain Crash." He paused. "So, is there a medical term for 'batshit' or can we just stick with that for now? I'd ask the shrink we've got running around somewhere but he might lock us up with the rest of them and 'Bee probably wouldn't like that."

"Bonkers? Bananas? Few fries short of a Happy Meal? Stark raving mad? I don't know, I think 'batshit' fits them pretty well." She paused. "And 'Bee would so be locked up, too. Sorry, 'Bee."

'Bee's radio chirped cheerfully, and then he held down his hand again to let Sam sit down again. Not that Sam couldn't walk just fine but 'Bee was protective and didn't trust their Seeker and Sam wasn't going to complain and make 'Bee reconsider letting him watch in the first place. Jolt followed suit and picked up Mikaela and Wheelie, and tailed by Sideswipe, they wandered over to Ratchet and the two test dummies he seemed to be running a final few tests on. Names like Captain Crash and The Spare didn't really inspire confidence in Will's ability not to kill a human in the air on accident, and Sam mentally debated for a moment whether to ask or not and then let his first impulse win out.

"If you're so sure he can't keep a test dummy in one piece that you two build a spare one..."

"...Then why do this at all?" Mikaela asked softly. "Because mechs are mechs, on both sides, but the 'Bots are the only ones willing to put up with us squishies. If they can get Will to imprint on the NEST team and see them as kin, then Megatron and Starscream will have that bit less to tempt him with. The first time Megatron starts to rant about pathetic fleshlings, he'll remind Will that we're human and we belong here and that the 'Cons wouldn't let us live. They let him and the team play so he'll get used to having us around. We made a spare because it was nice practice and it'll let them play a little rougher while they get used to it."

_Oh._

It did explain 'Bee's twitchiness now that Sam thought about it. Sideswipe and the Twins – and probably Ironhide, too – were all unstable as far as Sam was concerned but 'Bee didn't seem twitchy about _them_ in the same way as he did about Will. If he thought their new Seeker was going to pack up and turn 'Con, though... Sam could understand that. He didn't believe it for a second – the can might be 'Con but the content was all 'Bot – but he did understand.

With those kinds of thoughts nagging on his mind, Sam fell silent as they reached the rest of the group. Optimus Prime was huge, Sam was used to that, but while a Seeker wasn't any taller, it was a whole lot wider. Big and wide and took up a whole damn lot of landscape, especially staring at it from up close – and it was a _jet,_ Sam berated himself, _of course_ it was huge – and even if he was never going to comment on it out loud, he was still amazed that Will's wings didn't catch on anyone or anything when he turned and headed a bit away to transform without accidentally crunching someone.

Three years on and Sam was used to seeing their giant, alien allies transform but however many times he'd been used for target practice by the 'Cons, it was still only the Autobots he was really familiar with. Bumblebee's transformation sequence was something he could describe groggily but accurately if someone dragged him out of bed at four in the morning to ask him – and thank you to whatever sadist of a NEST commander had thought of that one as a nice little memory game, Will or Epps, he wasn't sure and couldn't prove it but he _knew_ it had been their idea – and Optimus' was familiar in a way that NEST-focused mechs like Ironhide or Sideswipe's weren't, but this was the first time he had seen a Seeker transform up close and personal and not have to worry about getting squished as a result.

He was amazed enough that something like Bumblebee could fit into a car shape that was all smooth lines and perfect paintjob, and never mind Optimus, but watching something as-as Decepticon-shaped as a Seeker do it boggled the mind. He wasn't going to _tell_ the man-mech-Seeker that he was 'Decepticon-shaped' to his face but it was what he was - all pointy bits and teeth and claws and assorted other bits that showed up in his nightmares, and if Mikaela had been a mind-reader, Sam was sure she would have made a bad, brain-breaky joke about just what _kind_ of mech-bits to make him scrub his brain with soap but since she wasn't, he would just have to do it himself.

Possibly, Sam was a tiny bit whipped in the girlfriend department, but with the kind of girlfriend he had, he wasn't going to complain.

Starscream could transform in about one second flat, painful experience had taught them that, but Will took his time and ten seconds later – and some really brain-bending slow-motion displays of just how those pointy ends fit together that Sam would have sworn involved magic – and there was an F-22 sitting on the runway looking perfectly, utterly innocent.

Sam was attuned enough to Bumblebee that he felt his guardian's hand tense slightly underneath him and he did the smart thing and decided against pointing out that Will's alt-mode dwarfed all of them, including Optimus. Going by Bumblebee's frown, he already knew and Sam was in absolutely no hurry to get kicked back into the relative safety of indoors.

The canopy opened and Mikaela hesitated for a second before she slid down from Jolt's hand and carefully stepped onto the jet instead and Sam really couldn't blame her. It was like walking around on Optimus' alt-mode or something, or stepping on 'Bee's hood. Mech-form was fine - and with something as perfectly climbable as Bumblebee it would be a crime not to use him for that sometimes - but alt-modes were something different and this was probably the first time anyone had ever stepped on that thing, and it was a _Seeker_ and yes, Mikaela had way bigger balls than Sam could ever hope for. Or possibly a lot less common sense but with the sort of things Sam got himself into, that wasn't a theory he was about to share.

Ratchet put Captain Crash in the cockpit, Mikaela handled the belts and straps and whatever else was in there, and between the two of them, the dummy was in place in a matter of minutes and the medic and his apprentices retreated to join the rest of them a bit away.

"Now we watch things go crunch?" Sam asked and Ratchet gave him a Look.

"Now we go through the tests again to ensure we can actually get reliable readings with the dummy in such close proximity to them. _Then_, they may take off and while I doubt that 'crunching' will be involved then yes, I do expect to see some damage done to our first test subject there, with lack of oxygen being the main concern." He made a shushing gesture and Sam settled down in Bumblebee's hand again and fell silent.

So T minus something to take-off and the show began and strangely, he started to get a craving for popcorn.

He paused and then groaned inaudibly.

_Bonkers. Bananas. Batshit insane. It **has** to be something in the water._

* * *

When Will had transformed, Ironhide had picked up his cue as well and held down a hand to Sarah Lennox in a silent offer. His body had been humming with pent-up energy when he had caught up with their medic and Seeker in the first place but it had faded fast at the sight of human company. Autobots would have been one thing. The human femme that might or might not be an actual mate to their Seeker was something else entirely and Ironhide had no desire to make things any worse for her than they already were... and admittedly, nor did he want to deal with an angry Seeker if it took insult to seeing its human possible mate upset. Instead he had regretfully pushed aside the last pleasant burn of energy and held down his hand to the human in a silent offer of a truce and she had accepted it willingly. The palm of his hand did offer a far better vantage point than the ground did until their Seeker took off and now she had accepted the offer again with a small, grateful smile that had gradually turned into a frown by the time the test dummy had been strapped in and Ratchet was handling the final tests.

Her body language held enough echoes of Will's that Ironhide could identify the tension in her body for the anger that it was – not as fiery as what her husband was capable of, Ironhide suspected, but still anger – and the tension he felt in her small frame increased with every joke and comment around them about the odds of survival that the test dummies faced.

It was no particularly tasteless comment that made her snap, merely the sum of it all, and she offered the offending soldier a look of icy disgust before she turned her attention back to Ironhide.

"What an astounding vote of confidence in my husband," she said in a biting voice, too low for any of the other humans to hear, and Ironhide arched one optic ridge slightly in surprise at the unusual venom in her voice.

"Sarah?" First name, she had insisted on that – _if he's going to claim both of us, you can at least call me Sarah –_ and Ironhide respected that.

"I'm tired of hearing them talk like that. Like he's-like there isn't even any human self-control left in him anymore." She paused, took a breath, and Ironhide stayed silent and waited for her to continue. "I know he's a Seeker, I know I don't understand that like your medic wants me to, but I do know Will. Can you trust me in that?" she asked quietly.

Interesting question, that. He trusted her to be _her_, he trusted her to be willing to fight for her mate and offspring with the same ruthless fury he had seen William capable of, and after a moment of hesitation too short for any human to pick up on, he nodded slightly.

"Then get me over there to him," she said firmly. "If nobody expects him to manage to keep that dummy intact, of course he won't be able to. That Seeker doesn't think like an adult and if everyone expects those two to fail, then why even bother trying?" A pause, watching him as he watched her, and then she sighed softly. "Please?"

It would probably force Ratchet to do his final tests over and earn Ironhide a sound chewing out for that but right now, he figured it was worth it. He trusted her not to do anything stupid or reckless, he trusted her to know his – _their – _mate, and however much he doubted the Seeker and human duo's ability to actually manage what they were supposed to, he did want to see them succeed. Bearing witness to what a Seeker-flight could potentially do to a human body, even if merely in theory, was not on his list of good entertainment, however morbidly fascinating their organic allies seemed to find it.

He glanced at Ratchet, saw the medic occupied by last-minute adjustments, and he took his chance and headed back over to Will, Sarah in his hand, before anyone could open their mouths to stop him.

A wave of displeasure from Ratchet told him exactly when he had been spotted but he firmly ignored that and focused on the small human in his hand again as she looked back up at him.

"Tell him to open his canopy?"

The Seeker-human obeyed without being told, made Ironhide's optics shutter briefly in surprise, and then Sarah pushed off her shoes and put them in Ironhide's palm before she slipped down from his hand and tested her balance carefully before she stood up on the jet. Ironhide wasn't sure if he would prefer bare feet to the sand and gravel and whatever else could get stuck on the sole of a shoe, but he understood the logic behind and could appreciate the sentiment. He was not a piece of furniture and she was not going to treat him like that, either.

_Get your piece-of-scrap aft back here and bring her with you before you contaminate the test results,_ Ratchet bit out over their bond as his annoyance turned vocal.

_Sorry, _Ironhide offered in return with a slight bit of genuine apology in the emotion he allowed to accompany it and then he focused on the small femme again as she reached up and took off her necklace.

She kneeled and hesitated but by then Ironhide understood what she was doing and he held out his hand for support to allow her to lie down and wrap the flimsy bit of soft, metallic chain twice around the wrist of the dummy before she closed the infinitely small clasp again and climbed back up proper in his hand.

"There." She reached down and his hand followed to let her brush her fingers lightly against the edge of one wing. "Ratchet tells me there are two personalities in there now," she continued softly. "I would like to get to know both of them. Fly nice."

The canopy closed behind them as they turned and headed back to the rest of the group, Sarah clearly ignoring any looks she got and Ironhide simply not caring. Ratchet's attention was focused on them until Ironhide was right back next to him and then he turned his optics back to a data-pad and started right over with the tests again.

Ironhide sent him his memory of what had just transpired in a small transmission without being told and he didn't miss the way the medic paused for the briefest of moments.

_You actually think it'll work? _Ironhide asked bemused.

Hesitation over their bond, then- _In any other case, I would say no. In this case, however... there is a bit of the human in there still. She might make him think, if nothing else._

Ironhide glance at the Seeker, the femme, the data-pad with the tests, and then back at the medic, still a bit bemused.

_And if they can pull it off?_

Another long moment of hesitation, enough to make Ironhide wonder if there was something he had missed, and then Ratchet looked at the human femme.

_Ask me again if they succeed._

There was definitely something there that their medic was hiding but Ironhide knew him well enough to know when prodding any further was a lost cause. Instead he settled for a small shrug before he let Ratchet return to those final tests and turned to watch their Seeker instead, the human femme still in his hand. She didn't ask to be put down and he made no move to make her. He had always focused most of his attention on William as a brother in arms. He had been aware of the human's mate and offspring, and had met them as well, but he had never considered them much as anything more than a strong part of Will Lennox's determination to survive and see the Decepticons gone from their planet. With her claimed as a mate by the Seeker as well, though... becoming used to one another was probably overdue.

He shifted his hands slightly to allow her to become more comfortable and ignoring the Seeker-related remarks of his organic allies, they settled down in companionable silence to wait.


	30. Chapter 27

**A/N:** I admit it, I was tempted to post some April Fools' joke here but I value my health and my beta would have skinned me alive *cough* So yeah. Respect the beta.

* * *

There were a lot of things Will had expected from the flight. He had expected to break the test dummy at least a few times – not on purpose, granted, but because they were a Seeker, this was the sky, and restraint of any kind was something utterly unnatural to any proper Seeker of the breed – and he had expected to get chewed out in return by Ratchet. He had expected to spend just about the entire flight intently focused on the small program that showed him and the monitors on ground what the dummy's sensors went through and what it would translate to in effects on a real human body. He had expected to need to land, use the spare dummy instead, and hear no end of the comments born from destroying the first one because Seeker programming wasn't meant to lower itself to adapt to mere organic life – he hadn't _hoped_ that one would be necessary but had expected it nonetheless – and he had expected to spend the entire flight reining in a temperamental, impatient bird-brain that would much, much rather push Mach three again and see if they could push themselves that little bit further again, medics be damned.

He had not expected to find his entire world narrowed down to twelve point four grams of soft, yellow metal and neither had he expected the Seeker to follow suit. It didn't care in the least about the test dummy because it was nothing more than an overgrown sensor and not sentient in the very least, and even if it _had_ been, Will still somehow doubted the bird-brain would have cared in the slightest. It was small and insignificant, it was not a mate, bonded, or kin, and that made it, at the very best, something to be ignored and pitied and disposed of if it got in the way too much. Its entire world was narrowed down to that small, light necklace and any thoughts of Ratchet and Ironhide and demanding programming and all the other things he had gotten so used to dealing with were little more than an afterthought at best.

He had expected to need to pay attention to that little program to tell him if he had damaged his stand-in for a human pilot but he hadn't so much as glanced at it and even then, he was pretty sure they had still gotten it right. There were a million things to keep track of, a million dangers to painfully remind him of just how fragile the human body was, but it didn't matter.

_Fly nice,_ Sarah had told them, and the small pendant had barely so much as trembled as they had taken off with a kind of caution and gentleness that he doubted even the actual human-built F-22s were capable of. He knew it felt unnatural to the Seeker to do – and in all fairness there was enough of that programming affecting him to agree with that – but even then there hadn't been any kind of fight about it. It was mate, mate had told them to behave and fly nice, mate had offered proof of their claim and possession, and if they could do this right, then they might even be able to take her for a flight as well and show her the world from a Seeker's point of view.

Which, Will had realised with not a small bit of surprise, was pretty damn high on the Seeker's list of things it wanted to do. It had been willing to consider flying around with some of the people Will considered friends but only reluctantly. They were organic, human squishies with no wings and no sense of flight at all and the Seeker was in no way just going to demean itself to consent to carrying around worthless little creatures like that. In those exact words, too, no matter how hard Will had mentally glared at it for that. Sarah being a mate, though, apparently put her in an entirely different category and he got the clear impression that taking her for a flight was above all else another chance to show off, stake its claim, and prove to her just how competent of a mate it was and how very fortunate she was to have been claimed by it.

He supposed it was sort of romantic, in whatever way passed for that sort of thing where Seekers were concerned. He'd given up on trying to talk the thing out of claiming her for a mate, and he was long, long past the time of trying to talk _Sarah_ out of anything once she'd made up her mind, and everything considered... it could have been worse. It would protect her with its life, at least, and he could appreciate that.

Below them, the Indian Ocean passed by them slowly as they circled Diego Garcia in a wide, lazy circle at speeds that didn't even approach half of what they were capable of, although he knew that some of that reserve power that would have gone into pushing them to the unhealthy range of a clear Mach three was now spent on human issues instead. Oxygen, a comfortable temperature, attention spent on making sure he wouldn't forget himself and throw himself into some stupid bit of acrobatics that would have killed a pilot... even the first two issues alone had been more of a surprise than they probably should have been. He looked like an F-22 but no proper Seeker would have given any thought at all to human comfort and his Seeker had been no different in that regard. The cockpit wasn't functional because a Seeker wouldn't have cared in the least and that meant that the first order of the day had been to fix that little oversight, along with any other oopses that had made their way into his scanned design. Like the fact that the whole chair, straps and padding and all, had been nothing but a prop. It was made to look the part, not feel it, and as a result the straps didn't work and the seat itself was about as comfortable as a slab of concrete. It didn't take much to fix it – a new, more detailed scan did the trick – but it did remind him just where the Seeker's priorities lay. It might have been different for someone like Starscream but Will somehow doubted it. Why care about insignificant details like that unless you had to? Why adapt to pitiful organics if you had no intentions of ever letting one near your precious self?

The world passed by below them, the small program that tracked the data from the dummy kept up its own, constant reports, the necklace shifted gently with every minute change of speed and course, and maybe that was why Will for the third time only found himself noticing the small, blinking icon in his processors after several long seconds.

Small, insistent, and very, very familiar in its unprotected and very much not an Autobot frequency way, and for another long few seconds he was tempted not to answer at all. It didn't have to be Starscream, of course, although odds dictated it was. It could be Megatron or whoever else decided to play 'poke the Autobot Seeker' but Starscream was the Air Commander and odds were that the incoming call was from him. He wasn't worried about the 'Con physically showing up – there was nothing on his scans and NEST would have notified him if the flying fragger had been spotted in the area – but they hadn't parted on the best of terms and from what little he knew, Starscream could hold a grudge like nobody's business.

It was probably Starscream, although it didn't have to be, and even if it was, there were other things to take into account. If it was the Air Commander hailing him and he didn't answer, it would just frag off the 'Con all the more and they'd managed that more than enough the last time. Insulting Starscream hadn't been one of his brightest ideas, even if it had put Will himself in a much better mood, and while he wanted nothing else than to have a go at round two, there were other things to keep in mind this time... like the small, small advantage of being sort of kin to the fragger. He didn't like to think about it, didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was still an advantage until the first shot was fired and if nothing else, he might be able to get a little more information out of it. It hadn't worked before but then, that was how it was sometimes and it was worth a try.

The icon kept up its insistent, incessant blinking and finally Will caved and opened the line.

"Decepticon Air Commander Starscream to Autobot Seeker Will, negative seven-point-four, seven-two-point-one," Starscream's familiar voice greeted him, and whatever snippy anger Will had expected, it wasn't there. "Are you in need of assistance?"

Whatever he had expected the Air Commander to say, that certainly wasn't it, either, and for a moment neither Seeker nor human could do anything to react but simply stare, unable to come up with any sort of coherent response.

"Decepticon Air Commander, this is Autobot Seeker." He paused, uncertain and torn between the instinctive reaction to tell Starscream to shove it and Seeker programming that told him the 'Con sounded like he genuinely _meant_ it and frag it all, but life had been so much simpler as a human. "Key word, Air Commander, being 'Autobot'."

Implied, 'Why do you care?' and Starscream would be smart enough to pick up on that.

"Key word, Autobot Seeker, being _'Seeker',_" Starscream corrected in a voice that was vaguely annoyed, vaguely impatient, but still somehow oddly determined as well, and Will felt a shiver down his spine as programming latched on to every nuance of that voice and brought out the same complex sounds that made it so unpleasant to human ears and so compelling to a Seeker. "I repeat: Decepticon Air Commander Starscream to Autobot Seeker Will, negative seven-point-five, seven-two-point-two. _Are you in need of assistance?_"

There was a snarky retort at the tip of his non-existent tongue but it died before he could voice it, his own annoyance and disbelief mixed with the confusion and surprise from his Seeker half, and this was _Starscream_ but not the Starscream he remembered from battle; not the cowardly, self-centered flying pest of a Seeker that had been so much of a pain to them all.

_Kin,_ his own Seeker half murmured by way of explanation, a string of images flickering by his processors – Cybertronian and Seeker glyphs, memories of kin and family, Ratchet's explanations and the overwhelming feeling of _belonging_ – and he could have told Starscream to go frag himself, but something stopped him.

_Kin,_ the Seeker had called him and according to Ratchet, that was vaguely what Starscream considered them as well until he was sure they hadn't just been brainwashed or something by the 'Bots, and if that was the case... why throw away a strategic advantage before you had to? The Air Commander had been a pest the last time they had talked but he didn't _seem_ to hold any grudges and... that was then, wasn't it? If Starscream was willing to play nice for the moment and put kinship ahead of faction loyalties, if he was willing to just write it off as a young Seeker being too stupid to know any better, who were they to antagonise him in return when it might mean giving up a potential advantage in the future?

He took a deep, mental breath, pushed aside the biting little remarks that were itching to get out, and forced himself to pay attention to his own Seeker's cues and get it right. The longer they could keep the 'Cons from figuring out what had actually happened, the better. If they never learned at all, then Will would be a happy, happy bird-brain.

"Decepticon Air Commander, this is Autobot Seeker." Another pause, knew damn well that it wouldn't have been how a normal Autobot Seeker would have responded, but he kept the words _strategic advantage_ firmly in mind and if it meant they responded more like a proper Seeker than an Autobot one, they could deal with that, too. "Negative, Air Commander. I am not in need of assistance at this time."

The line was silent at that and he could almost feel Starscream's optics on him. The Seeker part of him cringed like he was five years old and in trouble again and trying his damn best to talk his way out of it, the human waited tensely for whatever would follow next, and between the two of them, they kept their bonds firmly shielded. They didn't need Ironhide's temper and impatience to make it any worse and Ratchet... maybe Ratchet would be able to help, but their control of the bonds was still unsteady and opening one while keeping the other shielded might not hold if the conversation went south.

"Autobot Seeker, you're at below optimal speed and even the fleshlings could outmanoeuvre you with the way you're flying now," Starscream finally said, and the undercurrent of utter disgust worked much better to make his Seeker half cringe again than snide baiting would have done. It was also a clear demand for an explanation for just what he thought he was doing and if he'd had any time to consider it at all, it would have frightened him how easy it was to fall into the role of a real Seeker being chewed out by its commanding officer for some bit of stupidity or another. He would realise it later but as it was, it was probably a good thing there was too much else going on to notice that immediately.

He didn't owe the flying fragger the least bit of an explanation but his Seeker part demanded it, anyway, and neither of them could afford to show weakness. The necklace trembled slightly as his distraction showed in the sudden rush of power to the engines but they had it back under control an instant later and Will released the tension in his frame that he hadn't even been aware of until then.

To admit he was showing restraint for a mate would be weakness, to claim he was doing it voluntarily would be even worse – Seekers _had_ no term for _restraint_ in flight, only the concept of _weakness_ – and to lay all the blame on the feet of their Prime wasn't something he ever wanted to do, especially not when it was undeserved.

He was tempted for a second to ask Ratchet for advice-

-And then the explanation offered itself an instant later, half lie, half truth, and altogether plausible as he offered a silent apology to the medic and drawled his response.

"Decepticon Air Commander, I thought even the _'Cons_ knew better than to frag off a wartime CMO. There might be organics going faster than me out there but at least I still _have_ my wings."

Whatever he'd expected from that, laughter wasn't it, but there it was, anyway, dark and compelling and enough to send a shiver of pleasure through his body – _pride-acceptance-acknowledgement-__**approval**__ – _and he shuddered under the assault of it all. The first talk had been careful reconnaissance from both of them, the second had been mostly insults and innuendos, and this time... this time, the fragger had apparently decided to play friendly and see if that got any kind of progress and somewhere in the back of Will's processors, he could feel it working on his Seeker half.

"Does he still threaten to reformat the unfortunate into undesirable bits of work equipment? The Hatchet should find himself a new threat. That one grows old and ineffective without actions to back it up."

He felt his Seeker half flinch at that and the clear impression of _fear-dominance__**-respect**_ that came with it, and whatever else the medic might be as their future mate, it was pretty clear that the Seeker wasn't about to cross him any time soon. He wondered for a moment just how much the 'Con remembered about Ratchet and how much they had even interacted in the first place, and then the thought was gone again, dismissed before Starscream could get impatient waiting for a response.

"How about you find his private comm-frequency and tell him that to his face?" Will drawled. "I might be a Seeker but I'm not that stupid."

He realised his mistake about a second too late to matter and could almost feel the temperature drop over the comm-line as Starscream's mercurial moods kicked in again.

"Is that what they tell you, Seeker?" he hissed. "That you're worth less than your pathetic, weak, wingless companions? That you're nothing more than a drone, driven by programming and instincts? Or is that what you believe? That any coding they fail to comprehend in their worthless little processors must mean you are somehow a lesser being than them?"

Too late to fix his mistake and frag it all to the Pit, but he had to learn to control himself better. Necklace, test dummy, and small program forgotten, his Seeker part focused completely on Starscream and Will wasn't about to argue.

"I know my programming, Starscream. You can't tell me that something that'll turn me so temperamental that I'm a danger to my surroundings is an advantage. They don't have wings but at least they can control themselves, which is more than I can say about us."

Starscream laughed again, harsh, mocking, and with no humour in it at all.

"Have they taught you to hate yourself, Seeker? I would have expected it from their walking weapons but not from the Prime or the Hatchet. What you call weakness is our survival. Their Allspark is gone, Will. They will fade and offline and there will be no one new brought online to take their place. What you call weakness is life, Seeker. What they think of as cowardice is survival. As they die, we will remain."

The words struck too close to home and if he had been human, he would have felt a knot in his stomach as memories flared up; Sam with the cube, the chaos that was Mission City, and the slow, terrifying realisations that none of them understood until much later.

_The Allspark is gone and they'll die because we killed them._

Starscream clearly mistook his silence for something else because he continued in a lower, smoother voice, strong and persuasive and with every bit of his control as Air Commander put into it.

"What hold do they have on you, youngling? Kin? Bonded? Mates? You have known nothing but _their_ view of this. Your loyalty to those that are yours is commendable but misplaced. A true groundling mate to a Seeker would go with them into whatever might come. Seeker bonds are stronger than all other and should not be broken. A proper mate would know this. A proper mate would join you where your last kin remain."

_Sarah would follow you._

The thought rose unbidden in his mind and made his Seeker part shift uneasily. Sarah would follow him, Sarah would trust he could protect them, Sarah would trust that he had his reasons, even if she didn't agree. Ratchet wouldn't and Ironhide...

_Slag._

He pushed the thoughts aside roughly, felt his engines respond as well, and the shudder that followed passed all the way from his nose and to the tip of his wings.

"I made my choice, Starscream," he bit back. "Mates have nothing to do with it."

And Starscream, frag it all to the _Pit_, refused to rise to the bait.

"You made your choice, Seeker, and it was clearly under duress. We will see justice done, Will. Let the Prime pay for chaining any kin of mine. Let him learn to fear our kind again."

"And Megatron?" He hadn't wanted to ask but the words were out before he could stop them, a raw, nagging drive to know from his Seeker part, to understand the creature that its Air Commander obeyed, however reluctantly that might be.

"Lord Megatron understands the lure of the skies," Starscream said and echoed words Will remembered from their first go on that topic. "Warn your jailer, Seeker. The time for chains and submission is past."

The connection was dead before Will could respond, left only the half-threat, half-promise of Starscream's voice echoing through his processors, and he had thrown himself into a desperate roll before he realised what he was doing. The pitch of his engines changed in an unnatural, sickening sound as he reined himself back in those few seconds too slow, wings and engines and every joint in his body objecting to the sudden change in speed and direction, and then he was on a steady course again, only a slight tremor revealing that he was anything but perfectly calm.

"Will?" Ratchet, worried and... something else. Displeased or angry and he couldn't bring himself to care and it was all that he could do to keep his voice steady.

"Starscream." He hesitated, unwilling to look at the program to the dummy himself and focused his entire attention on the small, small necklace instead. "The dummy?"

Silence followed for a second. "Your hypothetical passenger is rattled but unharmed," Ratchet finally said. "Congratulations."

And thirty-five miles above sea level, with Starscream's voice still echoing in his mind, Will somehow didn't feel proud in the least.


	31. Chapter 28

**A/N:** Every time I try to move the story forwards, the characters insist on talking instead. We shooould be getting somewhere... slightly... maybe in the next chapter. -pokes Will- Hopefully.

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If Ironhide had been stuck with less of a processor-ache, he would have been bemused at just how fast it was possible to forget how annoying certain things could be and just how fast you got used to things being _normal_ again – or as normal as they would ever get with their new Seeker-human around. As it was he settled for what he was sure Epps would have called his own personal little thundercloud trailing him as he tracked down Ratchet by a Cybertronian-sized table, working on one of the test crash dummies with a thoughtful frown.

"Explain," he growled. "Now."

Ratchet looked decidedly unimpressed as he glanced at Ironhide and then down at the dummy, and Ironhide could feel the sarcasm coming before the medic even answered.

"It's a crash test dummy, Ironhide. It's a fake test subject that the humans use when they don't want to hammer one of their own into brick walls at eighty miles an hour. They have a marvellous thing here called the _internet,_ bolt-brain. It might take you a little while but I'm sure a big, strong front-liner like you can figure it out."

Anger flared through his systems but was gone a moment later, and Ironhide made an annoyed sound instead. It wasn't even their own fault and that was probably the worst of it. He knew it and it still didn't help one slagging bit when every bit of his processor and spark was overrun by a lot more emotion than he'd felt since sometime before the War began. "Not that pile of scrap. _Will. _The winged pest of a fragger out there!"

Ratchet made an identical sound of annoyance and then he finally turned to actually look at Ironhide. "You've already felt his lack of shielding. Let's agree that since I've managed to block my side of it, you'll do the same with yours, and maybe we'll both be able to have something that could pass for coherent thoughts again."

Ratchet's presence lingered on the edge of their own bond to silently remind him how a calm, stable presence _should _ feel – even if it was more than a bit tainted by whatever-the-frag their Seeker was currently going through – and with a mental curse that would have made even some lesser 'Cons pause, Ironhide slugged his way through the heavy mass of emotions until he was painstakingly able to shield it again. Some still seeped through but he could deal with that and at least it gave him some idea of Will's state of mind.

He vented slowly, took his time to let his processors clear, and then he turned his attention back to Ratchet. "What the frag was that? He wasn't even that bad when he first came online."

There was a ghost of amusement in Ratchet's features but it was gone before Ironhide could do more than notice it, even if some of it lingered in his voice. "Looking back, I would say it's about the same. What happened? One young, rattled Seeker courtesy of Starscream. He'll get himself back under control again soon. Until then..." A shrug to convey a silent 'suck it up and cope', and Ironhide sighed.

"'Rattled'," he repeated.

"Rattled," Ratchet confirmed and then sighed as well. "Your heard the recording he brought back. You have ground-bound programming and a War of hatred to view Starscream through and that keeps him from having any kind of effect on you beyond that usual urge of yours to tear out his vocaliser. William carries Seeker programming. They hear Starscream's voice differently than the rest of us do and he is well aware of what buttons to push. You know what Megatron can do. You are old enough to have seen him raise an army on little more than the sound of his voice and words. Granted, he rarely uses those skills anymore but they remain nonetheless. What most non-Seekers fail to consider is that Starscream has much the same effect on his own kind. Will has talked with him before but this is the first time Starscream put that degree of persuasion into his voice."

Rattled. Now that Ironhide's processors could work mostly normal again, he could also push the memory of those emotions enough away to see them for what they were – a chaotic mass of anger, confusion, determination, possessiveness; raw fury and blind panic and the desperate need to fly, and underneath it all a heavy streak of blind fear at everything that happened in the Seeker's body that he didn't understand and never knew how to fight. All in all, Ironhide could find much less kind words than 'rattled' to use but for now, it would have to do.

"You have Seeker programming," he stated as the emotions being pushed aside let other things resurface again. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected from the comment – and if his processors had been completely clear, he probably wouldn't have made it at all – but Ratchet just snorted in response.

"A gross simplification. My programming _adapted_ to Seeker programming. There is a difference."

He was evading the unspoken question, both of them knew that just fine, and Ironhide nodded.

"It adapted," he agreed with a voice that said he didn't particular care what Ratchet wanted to call it and that he wasn't going to argue, either, but had much bigger issues to poke. "So why don't you tell this plate-head of a front-liner what the difference is, in terms I can understand. You got the same effect going when you hear him, too?"

Silence.

"To a degree," Ratchet finally admitted. "More than I used to before the current... circumstances but less than when I lived among them. I haven't heard much of Starscream since I left but the effect was nowhere as strong as it is now and not all of it can be attributed to Starscream showing an extra effort in his attempts to convince Will." Another pause and an echo of something over their bond that Ironhide recognised as the medic trying to put something into words a normal mech would understand. "The difference between their coding and what I have is the depth and strength of it, you could say. The adaptation in my coding is at surface-level for the most parts. There are minor changes to deeper programming but most of it will never match a Seeker's code. Theirs is far stronger and exists in every part of them, every single line of coding. Mine is... camouflage, I suppose. A way to fit in, adapt, and survive. Yes, I hear the appeal in Starscream's words and yes, my programming very much understands what Will is going through. Strong enough to spark nostalgia for what used to be before the War but never more than that."

Which had probably been intended to sound reassuring, even just a little, but that wasn't the way it settled in Ironhide's mind.

"And Will?" Who was stuck with a newly-onlined Seeker with no common sense or much in the way of loyalty, and they'd all seen just what the two of them were capable of when they got pushed enough... and being a Seeker, it didn't even take that much of a shove for the most part.

"The Seeker would listen," Ratchet said quietly. "It's in its programming. There is no chance it could ignore it. Will would hear it in much the same way he did as a human – in Starscream's grating voice and with all the arrogance and mercurial moods he has learned to expect from him. The Seeker has no choice but to listen to some degree. William can – and will – refuse. That is why, while they are clearly rattled now, they will settle down again soon. Whatever else that Seeker might be, the part of it that is William is still an Autobot."

Which was... good news, Ironhide supposed. Better than before, at least. Of course, that brought up a whole new string of questions but Ratchet didn't sound ready to kick Ironhide out just yet so he shrugged and went for it, before the medic got too much time to think.

"That's the third time Screamer's gone chatty on him. I don't remember any of the fraggers doing the same for the Seekers we used to have. They were 'Bots, too. I didn't like all of them but I knew some of them enough to know that if Screamer had approached them, we would have been told."

"I doubt he did," Ratchet responded in the same, quiet voice. "The Autobot Seekers made their choice and were for the most part obvious about it. They made no secret of their new loyalty or the fact that they had turned their backs on Starscream to give their loyalty to Optimus. To be brutally honest, from a Seeker's point of view the majority of the Autobot Seekers were damaged. They were not proper Seekers. They all had their reasons for refusing the Decepticons and I don't doubt that Starscream knew every last one of those reasons. They made their choice to betray him and he would not have cared to make them reconsider when they were obviously damaged in the first place. Will is... different. Starscream doesn't know him. My guess is that he assumes we found a Seeker youngling or had one in stasis. To the best of his knowledge, Will was never given the choice and he has so far seen no credible reason why Will should choose to remain with us. Had it been in the start of the War, I doubt he would even have cared, much less bothered. Now? There are too few of them left to risk it and he will go a long way to ensure that youngling Seeker ends up on what he perceives to be the proper side in the War."

"And now they're mobilising to lure him out or steal him from right under our noses," Ironhide finished. "It would be easier if he came along voluntarily but if he won't, they'll deal with that, too. Since Will told them to frag off... what've we got? A few days at the most before the 'Cons make their move?"

"Presumably. Seekers were never known for their patience and Starscream is no exception to that." Ratchet fell silent and Ironhide didn't interrupt, familiar enough with the medic to know that the slightly darkened optics meant his friend and occasional berth-mate was far away in his own thoughts and the whisper of emotion he managed to pick up from him under the still-lingering presence of the Seeker confirmed that. "How well do you know his human... mate?"

Good question. Ironhide's optics narrowed slightly as he considered it. He hadn't been around the small family that much but he'd heard his human brother-in-arms talk about her often enough and he'd met her a few times himself as well. She had coped well with the whole 'giant robot' thing, he figured. Better, he supposed, than some of the NEST team had but she had also had a husband to ease her gently into the thought. She didn't trust their small offspring around Ironhide unsupervised but he saw that as common sense more than anything. Human sparklings were small, fragile, and had nothing in the way of survival instincts at all. Keeping an eye on the thing made it a lot less of a tense situation for Ironhide, too.

"Some. I think she trusts me. I've spent most of my time with NEST but I've met her a few times before this. She's coping well."

"She is, I suppose," Ratchet murmured. "I owe you an answer. You asked me something and I told you to ask me again if it became relevant."

It took a moment to figure out what he meant and when he did, Ironhide's optics brightened for a moment in curiosity. "If they managed to pull it off."

"Yes." He glanced towards the exit of the large hangar, where both human and former-human were talking. Not a glance Ironhide could readily identify, even after so long around the medic, and their bond offered no hint at all, either. "I will tell you the same thing I told Optimus when we heard that recording. Find a way to tie her to NEST. Keep her here, get her clearance, get her a home, get their offspring schooling, hire her, relocate her – just keep her here. Alive, safe, unharmed, and firmly on our side."

Ironhide's optics narrowed slightly. "She's already on our side," he said and didn't need to add the unspoken 'And I don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise, to me or anyone else'.

"She's on William's side," Ratchet corrected him, clearly unfazed by the implied threat... not that Ironhide was actually surprised by that. Their medic had always shown an utter lack of respect for anything their weapons could do but hearing his background, it made sense. Ironhide had never been around an injured Seeker much before but if it was anything like their normal behaviour, you either had to be mad or a saint to deal with them... and Ironhide didn't believe Primus intended a wrench to be used quite like that.

"She's on his side. He's on our side. That makes her one of ours." He didn't even try to keep his annoyance out his voice at that and it wasn't a coincidence that he straightened slightly to give his cannons better room in a silent reminder of who he was and what he did. "I don't know where you're going with this, Ratchet, but you better have one Pit of an explanation for it."

And Ratchet, frag it all, didn't so much as pause at that but only gave an unimpressed snort. "Your shield is weakening again."

_Frag._

Ironhide sighed and forced the annoyance aside along with a heavy streak of possessive-protective instincts and that still-nagging fear and then he turned his attention back to Ratchet when he felt his own emotions settle again.

"Practice," the medic responded to the unspoken question. "I'm used to them... or used to be, at least. I have experience to draw on. You are still adapting to him. Spend enough time around them and you become used to the level of emotions they show."

Ironhide wasn't particularly convinced that anything short of insanity would be helpful in getting used to living with pests like that but he wasn't going to bring that up now and settled for a small, non-committal nod instead. "You still owe me an explanation"

It was silent for another moment as Ratchet seemed to consider his approach. "William made you promise to take the shot before allowing him to turn Decepticon." He held up his hand before Ironhide could even try to interrupt and continued, still unfazed. "I am aware that William is loyal to our side but we both also know that he would not have asked that of you if he didn't genuinely fear what his Seeker half might do. I'm also aware that they have come far in the time since you made that promise to him but the fact remains that while he has defied Starscream before, he remains a Seeker, with all that it implies."

"So you're... what? Worried he's going to go 'Con on us and she's going to go with him?" Ironhide's optics shuttered in bewilderment. "I know it's not nice to say but she's a human, Ratchet. His mate, sure, but human. She's a non-combatant. She doesn't even know a fraction of the classified stuff he's got in those processors of his. I might get worried if you said the same thing about a NEST team, but..."

"NEST doesn't have him wrapped around their little finger," Ratchet said flatly and glanced at the exit of the hangar again, at the dark, winged shape silhouetted by the light outside. "He transferred the recording of his conversation with Starscream in-flight. His first action on the ground was to seek her out the moment we removed that test dummy and it became clear that I had no medical reason to keep him. Furthermore, that dummy came back practically unharmed and I can guarantee you that no proper Seeker would have done the same and I very much doubt that our lectures on human fragility did a thing to rein him in. _Her_ influence leashed him. Before all of this, you were the one of us she had encountered the most and I doubt even that was more than four or five times. Her only link to us is through him. In a better situation, we would have all three of his claimed mates on our side against the lure of Starscream and his kin on the other and if so, the scales would have tilted in our favour. As it is, we have two claimed mates against Starscream and his kin – and one neutral who will very likely go wherever he settles for, faction insignia be damned. Seekers only reluctantly abandon a mate but in this case his programming would deem him in the right. We are not Seekers. As such, it should be our duty to go with him."

"Megatron wouldn't tolerate a human," Ironhide stated just as flatly. Keep them as a pet, maybe, like the fragger had taunted Sam with – and like they didn't all know the 'Cons could be sick fraggers when the mood got them – but not tolerate one of them for any longer than it took to step on it or charge a cannon.

Ratchet laughed briefly, harshly and with no humour in it and even through their shields, Ironhide felt the flare of emotion that accompanied it.

"Spare two humans and leave their home untouched in return for the only Seeker Optimus has left? He would call them 'pets', allow one of the stupider 'Cons to threaten them, and unleash Will to teach the mech a lesson in return. Prove that 'Bot Seeker isn't worthless, be satisfied he had a good hold on Will, and then sit back and laugh at us. Humans live for a very short time, even outside of combat zones, and I know you know it, too. Put up with two humans for the rest of their natural lifespans in return for the only Seeker Optimus has left? He would do it, Ironhide. With Starscream's advice or without it."

Ironhide was about to object when he stopped himself and the words died before they could ever be fully formed. When Ratchet put it _that_ way... he didn't really know the human femme that well and when it came down to it, he didn't doubt that she would side with her new Seeker husband, even against the rest of them. She'd been willing to argue with Ratchet and challenge him for a round two, at least, and she seemed to trust their new Seeker a whole lot more than anyone else did. If Will felt they'd be safe, there wasn't really anything to stop her from going with him...

_Like a proper Seeker mate,_ his mind bit out. _Frag it._

"He's human. Used to be," Ironhide clarified, grasping for straws and well aware of it and not giving a frag for the moment. "They're going to figure it out sooner or later. They're not going to put up with something that used to be..."

_Used to be human._

He trailed off before he could finish that thought and sighed before Ratchet could even think to argue. "I know Megatron wants to get his claws on him, so he'd accept it, at least, but the rest of the flying fraggers... he used to be _human_, Ratchet. If they're that much into how superior they are, they're not going to put up with someone tainting the programming like that."

Ratchet just nodded. "On Cybertron, you would have been right." A shrug. "Now, none of them are stable. They've been reduced to a fraction of what they used to be and it's not natural for any of them. The longer they stay like that, the harder it is on their programming and none of them want to spark in the middle of a war. None of them want their sparkling to be the last Seeker left. It won't matter that Will used to be human, it won't matter who may or may not have sent him back here in a Seeker body – what matters is the fact that he's a Seeker and with the number of times Starscream has contacted him, I would say he has passed whatever tests still remained. He wouldn't claim Will unless he considered him a proper Seeker and that is exactly what he has been trying to do. What happened up there today was the last offer of a peaceful defection. Starscream intends to claim him regardless of what we do and he let Will know that. Since he didn't accept the offer, they will just have to resort to more hands-on methods to get him away from us."

Silence. Ironhide wanted to argue but nothing came up and instead he only turned his head to watch the silhouette of the human and the Seeker outside and considered what he had just been told. He wanted to argue but he knew damn well how worried Will had been about turning 'Con on them and that he wouldn't have been so relieved at Ironhide's promise if he hadn't thought it had been a serious concern. And his human mate...

"That's not a healthy human reaction to what she's gone through, is it?"

"I am not an expert on human psychology," Ratchet responded quietly, "and nothing like this has ever happened before. That said, she lost her human husband and got him back, if in a very different shape. That she was willing to accept him at all like this, much less be so stubborn about it... she was given her mate back, Ironhide. To refuse to follow and refuse to trust him if he chooses to leave would mean to lose him again and she never allowed herself to grieve properly in the first place." He paused and looked like he was rapidly developing a processor-ache. "I have had my clash with her. It will not be the last, either. She... seems to have some degree of positive feelings for you so you may have better luck than I. Talking her out of staying with him would be a lost cause, so give her a reason to stay with us instead_._ Get to know her. Talk with her. She is going to be a companion mate, after all. Let her get to know you, give her incentive to stay through that, and William and the Seeker will notice, too. For now, I suppose that's the best thing we can do."

_Frag._

Ironhide suppressed a sigh and resisted the urge to comment that he wasn't Bumblebee. He got along just fine with the NEST team but civilians were something else entirely. "One of these days, I'm going to have a long discussion with Primus about the way that fragger runs things."

There was a flicker of amusement through their bond at that, almost hidden under the emotions from the Seeker. "Not any time soon, you're not, or I'll haul you back myself." Then, more serious- "We need her, Ironhide. We need every hold we can get on him."

He could have argued that he was a front-liner, that he didn't deal with problems he couldn't fix with the right amount of weapons, that he really wasn't the best person to make friendly with a civilian, and any of a dozen other excuses that flickered through his processors, but in the end he just nodded. It was Will's life on the line, the human femme wasn't bad for her kind, and Ratchet did have a point. If she was going to remain a big part of their new Seeker's life, then Ironhide needed to get to know her beyond the short and still slightly awkward conversations they'd held.

One last look at Ratchet and then he turned and headed out of the hangar again, towards their Seeker and its human mate.

Life, he decided, had been so much easier with Will Lennox as a human.


	32. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Still behind on review responses D: Fail!author is fail and offers apologies and virtual cookies (with chocolate!)

* * *

Working for NEST, Will knew, there were a lot of things you learned to take for granted. Giant, alien robots, for one. Cars that talked back and perverted robot tentacle freaks that got it on with their military satellites, to mention a few others. But on a definite top three, if not at the very top of the list, was the way the 'Bots acted around them. The first time Ironhide had physically picked him up not long after the stuff at Mission City, Will had been less than enthusiastic about it. Oh, sure, Sam didn't seem to have any issues being carried around by Bumblebee and Mikaela still seemed to find it fascinating more than anything, but it didn't change the fact that Ironhide was a walking, grumbling weapon used to metal allies and cannons bigger than a grown man, and humans were soft and squishy and easily broken.

He hadn't mentioned anything, even if he was sure Ironhide had noticed the tension in his body, and he had been more than a bit surprised to find that huge robot or not, he didn't for a moment feel like he was anything less than perfectly safe in Ironhide's hands. No fingers or feet stuck between shifting, black plates, no moment when that metal hand seemed to tighten that bit too much under him, and after a while, he had stopped being amazed and just trusted Ironhide to know what he was doing. The 'Bots were _careful_ around them, whether it was during training or mission briefings or just talking, and it stayed like that even when they got used to each other and the NEST humans developed a sixth sense about when to get out of the way. Even the Twins and Sideswipe were careful in their own very, very special way, and eventually NEST just... got used to it.

It wasn't until the first time he had picked up Sarah in his brand new Seeker body that he realised just how much processing power went behind such a simple act. Just being around humans was bad enough, always with active sensors to keep track of everything and being careful every time he as much as _moved_, but actually physically interacting with someone was... daunting. Every little shift meant a whole new range of calculations, taking into account his strength, his armour, the size and weight and movements of the human, and if that was what Bumblebee had to deal with every time he casually let Sam and Mikaela sit on his shoulders, Will had seriously underestimated the small scout.

Even now, with Sarah simply resting in the palm of his hand, he could feel that constant barrage of processes if he focused on them... and he frequently did, even if he wasn't going to admit it. Just to make sure they were still there and he wasn't about to do something stupid and dangerous on accident, and because those consistent little pings of acknowledgement were one of the main things that kept both Seeker and human from losing themselves completely in their miniature freak-out.

He hadn't even bothered to try and shield those emotions, on the logic that the best way to warn both of his bonded that he was potentially unstable was by letting them get a good long look at the situation themselves and because misery should be shared and in lack of the actual Primus to bitch out, Ratchet made a decent enough substitute.

Which the medic probably knew already, because Will got the clear impression that his hissy fit had been blocked with downright _cheerfulness_ and if said cheerfulness helped a little bit on that blinding fear that bit at the edges of his awareness, Will wasn't going to complain. His Seeker half was confused, going from angry to afraid to frustrated to furious and lighting up bits of memories and emotions like it was a fragging pinball game, and all Will could do was try and offer a bit of calm in return in the shape of the small, human figure in the palm of his hand.

God knew Will himself wasn't worth much in the 'calm' department anymore, after all.

"Will?" Calm, steady, gentle; like the way she had put her necklace back on after carefully picking it up from Will's palm, and there was a strong surge of fear at the thought that he might not be able to protect her, and it took long seconds before he had it enough under control again to focus on his human... wife? Mate?

_Ours,_ the Seeker stated possessively, in between a hurricane of emotions, and Will couldn't even argue with that. Sarah had made her choice and he had no right to tell her no when all he wanted was to keep her close and protect her from anything the world might throw at her.

"Remind me that I owe big and fugly a few missiles in the face," he said quietly. "Rearranging that ugly mug should be considered a service to the planet."

Not that he was much prettier himself these days, from a human point of view, but he ignored that. He had sort of gotten used to it, after all, and he didn't feel up for any arguments with his Seeker part about the attractiveness or lack of same that they possessed.

"What did he tell you?" She didn't need to clarify who 'he' was. She knew, he knew she knew, and that was good enough for them, and not using his name put a bit of distance between the fragger and them – something they desperately needed now.

Anger at the flying fragger, frustration at how much they let the damn 'Con affect them, gnawing fear at how strong that effect might run, and he pushed it all aside through sheer stubbornness, for all of the half a minute or so of peace it would buy him.

"That I didn't belong here. That a proper mate would follow us wherever we went." Sarah hadn't heard the recording, didn't know just what kind of freak they were dealing with, and Will felt his empty hand tremble almost imperceptibly at the stress of keeping it all away. "He wanted to make sure nothing was wrong. That I wasn't injured and that they didn't have some leash on me to keep me reined in. I could have dealt with that, except it sounded like he _meant_ it. He's supposed to be-"

_To be some sadistic, cowardly, worthless 'Con that puts his own aft above everything else, to be someone who'd leave a comrade behind to die in a heartbeat, to be someone who'd shoot his leader in the back and laugh all the while._

"Supposed to be Starscream," Sarah said quietly and even if he knew she would never understand the way the Seeker and he himself did, she still tried and the flare of _mate-possessiveness-__**mine**_ that followed wasn't something he even tried to fight.

"Yes."

They were both silent again, the only sounds being the dull hum of activity well away from them, her steady breathing, and the whisper of his own internal machinery at work. Her thumb stroked a gentle caress across warm metal, made every sensor in his body go on high alert as anger and fear and frustration was forgotten and his full attention was on her, and then she paused.

"Do you want to go?"

_Yes, no, maybe_ and frag it all to the _Pit_, but he didn't want to face it, didn't want to deal with it, didn't want to know the answer, and still he watched her and pushed aside the fear that had returned in full force, because this was mate, because Sarah trusted him, Sarah would go with him if it came to that, and he would have no secrets from her.

"Part of the Seeker wants to," he admitted quietly. "And a tiny little part of me wants to agree. The 'Bots are family but Starscream and the rest of his trine... they're Seekers and the Seeker part of me knows that, too. Seekers weren't meant to be alone and being around kin like that would be... very, very different. I don't want to go, I've got no plans of going quietly if it comes to that, but I'd be lying if I said the temptation wasn't there. That's just from talking with him, too. I don't want to know what's going to happen the first time I meet him face to face. If his influence is that strong over a comm-line, I don't want to know what it's going to do to me in person."

She didn't say anything to that but just nodded and fell silent as she considered his reply and Will in turn considered her. Even standing perfectly still, there were still a surprising amount of processes focused on her and her safety and he wasn't surprised when a few mental pokes at one of them revealed that they were all high-priority, too. It wouldn't make a difference now with nothing else going on but he wasn't too proud to admit that he was relieved to realise that pretty much nothing could overrule those processes, either. Well, something could if he let it, he assumed, but he wasn't about to and if those same things were at play whenever 'Bee or 'Hide or one of the other 'Bots dealt with humans, it was no wonder that they were able to avoid hurting or killing an ally on accident even in battle. Those things were high-priority and a few more mental pokes left little doubt that even battle-related programming could be pushed to second priority if that was what it took to keep his small, organic mate-wife safe.

"So that's the problem," she finally said in a firm voice and narrowed her eyes slightly in the way he had learned to recognise as her don't-cross-me expression. "What are you going to do about it?"

_Whatever it takes,_ he almost said but knew it wouldn't actually answer her question. She wasn't asking about a purely theoretical situation, he knew her well enough to know that, too. If she asked, she wanted an answer and not just nice little promises that didn't say a slagging thing about what he actually intended.

She'd mentioned once it was because she had never met a trouble-magnet as bad as him and she intended to either get the truth from him or slap a GPS transmitter on his ass, and while Will suspected she was joking – or really, really hoped so – he'd gotten the hint just fine and learned to actually tell her things.

"How much did Ratchet tell you?" Not that he was _avoiding_ explanations, mind you, it was just good to know what he had to work with. The baseline, so to speak. He knew they'd had an argument but just how much of the situation they had covered he had no idea.

Sarah snorted. "As little as he could possibly get away with and I'd still ask for a second opinion on anything he said."

There was a flicker of amusement at that, even through the still-heavy fear and anger that took up a good part of his attention. Sure, it was two mates arguing and clearly not getting along much but even the Seeker could see a bit of amusement in it. It meant that they were strong and not willing to back down easily and the Seeker part approved of that. While the breed preferred mates that could get along, Will wasn't surprised to find that it wasn't a demand. With the sort of personality and instincts Seekers had, there was bound to have been some epic arguments and feuds going on for sure before the war had started.

"He's a good doc," Will commented, still a bit amused. "He's just... Ratchet. Complete with bedside manners from the Pit itself and the tact of Bonecrusher on a bad day."

Another soft snort from Sarah to let him know just what she thought of said medic. "I've met raccoons with more pleasant personalities than him. I would say that you have bad taste in mates but Ironhide is nice enough company. I think your doctor there isn't used to being told no when he's decided on a course of action. For his own sake, he better get used to it. I still owe him a round two and if he's going to make a pest of himself again, I'll find a way to deal with that, too."

For a brief, brief moment in between his own states of half panic and half obsessive focus, Will almost felt sorry for Ratchet. Almost. It was gone again before it could ever turn into anything more than a fleeting thought. While he knew his wife had an impressive temper when she wanted to – and an ability to hold a grudge like nobody's business – Ratchet wasn't always the most tactful of mechs around and Sarah was already under a lot of stress. Whatever had happened, Will decided, Ratchet had probably had it coming.

"That bad?" he settled for instead.

Sarah shifted in his hand to make herself more comfortable and made every last bit of his attention focus on her until she settled down again. "He explained briefly about Seekers. That you were unstable, possessive, and that you _would_ take other mates whether I liked it or not." She paused before he could even ask, clearly annoyed. "I told him that it didn't matter and that we would find a way to deal with that, too. It doesn't matter what you look like, you're still my husband to me, and I mean that. Maybe I don't get Seekers like he wants me to but I get enough to know that I don't care and you'll just have to put up with me."

_Gladly,_ Will agreed, silent and heartfelt, and the word came out as a deep, affectionate croon as his Seeker half added its own agreement to that. He didn't even consciously notice the fear and panic lessen slowly, only the strong emotions focused on the small being in his hand.

"Even if we have miserable taste in mates?" he asked with a lightness he didn't feel. That had been the part his human side had the most issues with and it was no secret to anyone who really knew him that he was still trying to cope. Ratchet's explanations might have worked for a Seeker-human but he had his doubts that the medic had been able to do the same for Sarah. She sounded like she got it but whether the implications of it all had sunk in as well... really, that was anyone's guess. Primus knew Will had taken long enough to be willing to even acknowledge it himself.

Sarah was silent for a long moment – far shorter than it felt, Will knew, but it didn't change the fact that it was still plenty of time for his sensors to pick up on any change in her body, any shift in posture, any bit of tension in her muscles, however tiny it might be, and he had no chance at all to figure out what any of it meant. Reading her body language as a human had been one thing. This was something else entirely and he knew that it would take a long time to be able to understand her the way he used to... and probably her with him, as well.

"Ironhide isn't bad," she finally said quietly. "I mean that, Will. I didn't know him well before and we haven't talked much here, either, but he's a good man. He may not like this situation any more than you do or have much of an idea of how to handle everything but he tries and his heart's in the right place. I trust him. As for your medic, I may not like him but it doesn't change the fact that he believes he does what's right for you and that he means well. He argues because he doesn't wish to see you hurt. The fact that we have very different opinions about this whole thing isn't something I can really blame him for, even if it's terribly tempting."

She shifted again to rest her head against the warm plating above his spark and then she sighed. "If this is what you need, did you really think I would argue? You didn't ask for this any more than Ironhide or I did. I even think that if I asked you to not do this, you would listen even if it got someone killed – and I know what you did to that two-wheeled menace so don't even think about apologising – and I'm not going to do that. It wouldn't be fair to anyone, least of all you and that poor Seeker who got stuck trying to make it work together. It doesn't feel right to a human mind, I know, but I can understand enough to know it's something I have to deal with if I want to keep you at all and I have no intentions of letting you go, William Lennox. I've lost you too many times already." She took a deep breath and got her voice back under control before she continued. "So there. Tell me what you're going to do about all this and we'll deal with that, too."

Easier said than done, that, but Will just nodded carefully and then tried to get his own fear and apprehension back under control before he answered. "You know how mechs have sparks?"

The ghost of a touch as soft fingers brushed against the plating on his chest. "Their souls," Sarah responded.

"Their souls," Will agreed and tried to find a nice way to put it all into words and failed hideously in the process. There really wasn't an easy way to deal with any of it and his Seeker half was still too focused on that fear-anger-panic to be of much help at all. "A Seeker can... _interface_ with its mates just fine and never need more than that-" and frag it all, but that word still made the human side twitch- "but it's not the only way to claim a mate. Cybertronians, all of them, not just Seekers, can spark-merge, too. Take a bit of your mate's spark and put into yours and give them a bit of your own spark in return. A permanent kind of bond you're stuck with until one of you get killed and which makes it next to impossible to kill that mate of yours. You could survive losing that mate because you still – you still have a whole spark, just with a chunk of theirs left in yours that'll live on, but not if you pull the trigger yourself. You'd lose that bit of their spark in yours because of that act of betrayal and wouldn't have a whole spark left to keep you alive anymore. Ratchet says that it's not impossible to kill a mate you've spark-merged with but you'd probably kill yourself in the process, too."

"And that's what you plan to do," Sarah said after the silence had stretched on for longer than Will was comfortable with. "A spark-merge with... Ironhide?"

Will nodded slightly and tried to put thoughts into words he hadn't even spoken out loud to Ratchet, although he suspected that the medic had guessed at least parts of the reasons already. "'Hide wouldn't be able to take the shot against me if needed anymore but Prime could, if it came to that, and spark-merging... it would be the best way to anchor the Seeker side here. It's not the human that's the problem, it's the Seeker, but it wouldn't want to leave a spark-merged mate behind and at least I wouldn't be able to target 'Hide, either, if it came to that."

Another pause, trying to get it across right, willing her to understand and accept and see what he meant even when he couldn't find the words to really describe it, and there was so much to try and explain and so little he could do to make it sound sane. "I know doing it with the biggest weapon we have around here wouldn't be the smartest thing if I ever went rogue on the 'Bots but he's the only one that's even an option. I trust him, he's had my back in combat, I trust him with my life, my men's, even with you and Annabelle if it was ever needed, and he's the only one that... it's about trust. I'd see his spark, he'd see mine – everything in there, every little bit of my life whether I remember it or not, everything I ever did or said or thought however stupid and selfish and cowardly it was, and he's the only one I trust. I know him, I trust him, and he's the only one. Ratchet's... Ratchet but he's too complicated. There's too much luggage there, too many secrets he's never shared, too much stuff he's hiding. Ironhide's just... 'Hide. I know him and I trust him. Ratchet even agreed it's an option. I just need to bring it up to 'Hide now."

He left the _because I already brought it up with you_ unsaid because she could read that between the lines just fine.

She turned her head to look at the two shapes in the hangar behind them, front-liner and medic, and then turned back to him, eyes narrowed slightly. "And is it what _you_ want or is this just another way for them to keep you where they want you? You and the Seeker both, Will. It it what _you_ want or is this just some stupid scheme of theirs that they convinced you was the best way to do it? Because he might mean well but I don't see any other Seekers around and from what I gather, no one seems to give much of a damn about what that Seeker in your head thinks, either."

The startled surprised that followed was as much from Will as it was from the Seeker as their optics shuttered and fear-anger-frustration was forgotten in favour of raw, honest bewilderment at her words, and then that, too, faded to be replaced by a spark-deep need to protect the small mate in his hands.

Looking back, he shouldn't have been surprised at the question – she had told them that she intended to get to know both of them and she was never one to make promises she didn't intend to keep – but the Seeker's reaction, he realised, was perfectly understandable and left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. Nobody had given much of a frag about what the Seeker wanted, had they? Ratchet was the only one who'd communicated directly with it much and even that had been threats of violence for the most part or to curse out the creature. On one level he appreciated that they considered him the dominant personality and the one they wanted to deal with and on the other hand, there was a nagging sense of guilt that gnawed on his mind as he tried to form a reply. The Seeker ran mostly on basic instincts, the Seeker was still only just learning to handle itself in a brave new world, but it should still have some say in things and no one seemed to care much at all about whether or not Will let it have that. He hadn't minded when he had been panicked and afraid of losing himself completely but with a truce in place... the guilt was there. Silent, nagging, and dark as he listened to the soundless impression of the Seeker's response before he spoke.

"It wants this. It's claimed 'Hide as its mate and wants to stake its claim in any way it can, but..." he paused, knew the impression he got from it went against everything he had heard about their kind, and then he pushed that thought side and continued with the train of thought he had gotten from his Seeker half, however out of character it sounded to him. "It wants you to be happy. You acknowledged it. If you don't approve of Ironhide, it will find someone else that you _would_ accept instead."

It would still be someone else to claim their time, still be someone else that she had to accept, and they both knew it, too, but there was still the gesture of choice in it all and even Sarah seemed to understand how big of a gesture it was for the Seeker as she offered a pale but genuine smile and shifted in his hand again. "And you?"

Silence again.

"Fragging terrified," Will confessed. "Humans don't have anything like it and the thought of knowing someone completely is... it sounds like something out of a horror story where the guy goes nuts because it's too much to deal with. On the other hand, the Seeker knows it'll be worth it and I trust it knows what it's doing when it comes to this. Terrified but worth it, I guess. Nobody made the choice for me, at least."

From her place on the palm of his hand, Sarah nodded. "And you'll have company," she said softly and voiced the thought he hadn't been willing to even acknowledge himself yet. "You're going to live for a very, very long time, because I didn't get you back just to see you get yourself killed again in some stupid stunt. You're going to live for a long, long time and it would be even more terrifying to go through that alone. I can't do that for you."

There was nothing he could say to that to make the painful twisting of his heart any easier to bear so he stayed silent and simply listened to the sound of her breathing and the pulse of her heart until the sound of metallic footsteps approached and they both looked towards the dark figure that headed towards them.

Her lips twitched slightly and then she looked back at him. "If this is what you want – both of you, you and the Seeker, and ignore anyone else on this stupid base – then that's what I want, too. Be happy, Will. I got you back and I love you, and I swear, if you forget me the moment you spark-merge or interface or whatever it is alien robots do, then I'm going to make Megatron look positively kind in comparison. If you're claiming me, then I'm going to do the same, and you can tell that medic of yours to stuff it somewhere very painful if he has any objections at all."

Downright glee from the Seeker – because this was what a mate was _supposed_ to be – and even knowing how unnerving Seeker laughter was, Will couldn't quite keep a bit from it from showing as he nodded obediently. "Yes, ma'am."

It wasn't perfect, they both knew that. They still had a lot to get used to, a lot of adjustments to make, but it was a start, and that was good enough for now.


	33. Chapter 30

**A/N:** You know, I keep intending for Will to get laid, and something always gets in the way. The scene at the end of this chapter is a 'To be continued in the next episode' thing so we'll see if I finally manage next week. Which should hopefully be out on Wednesday, too :D (since author won't be online Thursday)

* * *

Ironhide liked to think he had a well-developed sense of danger. He liked to think that while luck had definitely had a say in him surviving for as long as he had, skills and good instincts counted as well and that he had plenty of both.

He could understand said instincts reacting to a Seeker, even if part of the personality in said flying fragger was a trusted comrade-in-arms – the rest, after all, was still a Seeker and Ironhide had plenty of bad experiences with those. Having those same instincts react to the _human_ resting in the Seeker's hand as well... that was a bit of a new experience and he ran a quick, localized system scan twice to make sure it wasn't some glitch acting up, only to find that there wasn't a single thing wrong. It didn't react nearly as strongly to her as it did to the Seeker but it was still there and Ironhide wasn't quite sure if he should be amused or worried – it was, when it all came down to it, just a human. Certainly, Sam had taken down Megatron and Lennox had dealt with Blackout but they'd had the help of the Allspark and sabot rounds, respectively, and no small amount of death-defying insanity.

Sarah Lennox, to the best of Ironhide's knowledge, had nothing of that sort but still there was the nagging feeling that he should be somehow... wary. Natural uncertainty about the whole thing at first – Will Lennox's mate or not, she was still a civilian and Ironhide was never very good at talking with those – but that had steadily turned into a wary cautiousness when he approached them. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what made his senses react like that but the way two pairs of blue eyes – one Cybertronian, one human – locked on him in perfect symmetry at the sound of his footsteps definitely had something to do with it. There was nothing hostile in it, nothing off about it at all, just... strangely unnerving to find himself under that kind of scrutiny from them and have no idea of what they had been talking about or were thinking at all. The human femme didn't have a bond to communicate across and what he picked up from Will and the Seeker from behind their heavily-shielded bond didn't offer much in the way of help, not even after he had cautiously lessened the strength of those shields.

At least it was easier to block the worst of it now. Whatever they'd talked about, it had cut down a lot on the constant, invisible hammer of Seeker-born emotions that had made the past hour or so such a pest to deal with. It was still there but not as heavy and what remained felt more controlled, too. Less raw panic and more a calm, careful – if slightly intense – focus on... Ironhide.

_It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you._

They moved like one again to look at each other and then the small femme rested a hand on part of Will's plating, well away from any bits and pieces that might crush an organic limb on accident.

"I need to get back to Annabelle," she said quietly. Too low for any possible humans lurking around to hear but more than enough to be picked up by Ironhide's sensors and he figured that she knew it, too.

The emotions from the bond lost some of their calm and turned darker, more raw and desperate as flickers of memories of the small human offspring surfaced even through Ironhide's mental blocks on it and the Seeker frame tensed. Sarah Lennox didn't seem to care but brushed her hand gently across grey plating and while Ironhide knew without a doubt that the human femme couldn't possibly feel the effect it had on Will the way that Ironhide could, she still seemed to know instinctively that her touch would calm him down. That, or she put up a fragging good act. Either way, Ironhide figured it worked. "We can talk about that later. We'll figure something out, one way or another. I'm not letting Annie grow up without her father just because of something as silly as this."

And just like that the emotions calmed down and the fear levelled out again as Will nodded and walked over to one of the Jeeps parked nearby, and Ironhide trailed along from a mix of curiosity, concern, and a lack of anything else he ought to be doing.

The car looked painfully small and fragile against the Seeker as he kneeled to put his human companion on the ground and Ironhide was a bit bemused to find said companion level a long look at him before she glanced at Will again and seemed to mouth something that Ironhide couldn't make out.

Probably didn't matter, anyway, but still he couldn't quite help the feeling that someone was plotting behind his back.

Front-liner and Seeker both watched silently as the car left and only when the last sound of the engine was gone did Will look back at Ironhide, a flicker of what looked like amusement in his expression and the ghost of the same feeling brushing against his shield through their bond. Like he was in on some kind of joke that Ironhide hadn't caught up with yet but at least it was better than the _fear-anger-panic_ they'd been treated to before. Ironhide could deal with amusement instead of that.

"You here to beat me up and put the Seeker back in its place?" Will asked. The amusement in his voice left little doubt that he wouldn't really have a problem with it if that was the case and for a moment Ironhide was absurdly curious about just _what_ had happened in that combined processor of theirs during the swift, brutal battle with their Prime to make Will enjoy it so much. On the other hand, knowing Seekers... some things were probably better left unexplained.

Ironhide snorted and decided to go with the truth. "Ratchet dismissed me with instructions to be social and get to know your wife, but we can schedule a training session if you miss getting your aft slagged that much."

Will didn't rise to the bait but just glanced in the direction where the Jeep had left and then back at Ironhide, still with that amusement in his words. "Play nice and social, get to know her, get friendly, and give her some kind of bond to you so there's less risk I'll decided to pack up, go 'Con, and take her with me?" Then continued before Ironhide had the chance to reply- "That's what I would have done. Starscream did a good job reminding the Seeker part of me that there's nothing that really keeps Sarah here other than me and if I left..."

..._She'd follow_, Ironhide didn't finish because they both knew that. She'd follow, at least as things were now and whatever arguments she'd had with Ratchet probably hadn't helped, either. Stubborn-as-frag medics and organics were a pain in the aft any way you looked at it.

Silence followed as Will seemed distracted again and Ironhide was busy with his own thoughts and a cautious attempt to further lower the shield that had kept the Seeker's mess of emotions from invading his own spark as well. It was a lot less than when Ratchet had first told him to shield, even noticeably less than when he had arrived to talk with Will only minutes before, and he could feel it slowly weaken even as he watched. Seekers, he had been forced to learn from close proximity to Will, tended to show and feel a lot stronger than other builds did but as fast as their temper could flare, as fast it could vanish again, too. Ratchet had been right – it wouldn't take that long for their Seeker to be reasonably stable again.

And speaking of which...

"If this is what dealing with Seekers on a regular basis feels like, no wonder someone gave Ratchet that 'Hatchet' name of his," Ironhide snorted. "Nobody sane or stable could have survived actually living with them."

Will's cheerful half smile, half smirk of a response was a nice reminder to Ironhide that Seekers weren't built for that sort of expression, but it would probably take the human part a long time to remember that little fact. "That's okay, 'Hide. We always knew you were batshit insane. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Says the human that took on Blackout," Ironhide drawled right back. Took on Blackout gleefully at that and left no doubt that he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if he could.

No one had ever accused their young NEST commander of being sane but then, with a position like that, Ironhide doubted that anyone sane would even have been able to function, much less run a successful operation. Come to think of it, he realised with some bemusement, it was probably the only thing that had kept William Lennox from losing it completely in the days and weeks that had followed his human body's death. Someone sane and stable, Ironhide suspected, would have cracked under the pressure. Lennox was stressed, there was little doubt about that, but it wasn't anything he seemed unable to handle and his mindset undoubtedly had a lot to do with that. The same mental... flexibility that had allowed him to deal with the thought of alien robots so easily was the same that now kept him at least marginally sane – and it said a lot about the flying fraggers as a breed that they made Lennox look sane, stable, and downright normal in comparison.

Will smirked, entirely unrepentant, and then he glanced in the direction where the Jeep had vanished again, drawing Ironhide's attention in the process. One second, two, wondering what to do, and then he pushed aside the uncharacteristic hesitation – he wasn't _meant_ to deal with non-combatants or be some sort of sensitive, caring pest of a shrink; he was used to comrades-in-arms and if you had issues to deal with, you did so with a sufficiently impressive number of firearms – before he focused on their Seeker.

"How is she adapting?"

Decently from what Ironhide had seen but that had been a few conversations at the most and she was well used to keeping secrets, her own state of mind included. If nothing else, it might give him some idea of what he would be dealing with.

"A lot better than I would have done in her situation," Will admitted. "I'm stuck with this, I have to learn to cope some way or another, but she doesn't. She could just walk away if she wanted and half of me hoped she would. She's amazing, I don't deserve her, and I wanted her to be able to have some kind of a normal life again without some jealous, temperamental bird-brain hovering around her. I'm grateful she refused but..." He sighed. "I wanted her to have it, you know? Give her the choice I didn't get, at least. Maybe I did something stupid to get myself in this situation, and I can't make it all just peachy again, but I could at least give her the choice. Let her have a kind-of normal life away from Classified County and Giant Genocidal Robot City. We still have to figure out what to tell Annabelle but... Sarah's coping. Really, really well."

"As long as it isn't Ratchet doing the explaining," Ironhide said dryly.

Will snorted at that but the amusement he felt still carried over through the bond, and Ironhide wasn't quite sure if it was a good sign that he was slowly getting _used_ to dealing with something as temperamental as a Seeker. He was still affected by it, granted, and it still took him by surprise sometimes, he just... wasn't as confused anymore when it happened. It was a Seeker, being a pain came natural to it, and the best thing anyone could do was learn to cope because it clearly wasn't in any Seeker's personality to learn something like 'self control' or 'restraint'.

"I already told Ratchet that people gave the 'Iron Will' nickname to the wrong Lennox but nobody listens. I figure it's their own afts on the line, then. And yeah, she wasn't too happy with him." He paused and smirked again in that distinctively Seeker-ish and _wrong_ way. "A wash and a wax says Sarah wins round two."

Ironhide snorted. "We need to cut down on training sessions, you've damaged your processors. He's a Seeker-trained medic and he deals with Prime, Sideswipe, and the Twins."

"And you," Will agreed. "Mr. It's-Just-A-Flesh-Wound."

Ironhide's eyes narrowed slightly at the reference. "You do know we have wash racks?"

Another smirk. "I know. What's the fun in that?"

And there it was, the whisper of lust underneath it all again when Ironhide lowered his shields a bit more to pick up the emotions, curiosity and attraction and fascination and a raw, lingering desire to _**claim**__,_ and if that was the case, then who was he to argue?

"Just making sure. You're on, and you better make it the good wax."

_Of course. Only the best for a Seeker,_ Will sent smugly over their bond but before Ironhide could do anything more than narrow his eyes, Will continued out loud, slightly more hesitant. "I told her about spark-merging."

It took a second longer than it should have for his processors to catch up with that train of thought and he was more surprised than he probably should have been. Seekers were all about mates and claiming and interfacing – Will had called them nymphos more than once and Ironhide didn't doubt that it was true, too – so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that spark-merging that been brought up. It had been bound to, sooner or later, and while Ironhide would have preferred 'later' to 'sooner' – if nothing else then because they had enough to deal with as it was – he was willing to listen, too, and he sent a soundless feeling of encouragement through their bond.

The emotion he got back was a strange mix of uncertainty, determination, and wry amusement. "I brought it up with Ratchet and he gave his own Ratchet-y kind of blessing. Didn't forbid it, at least. Sarah sort of understands, too, told me flat-out that she didn't want me to be alone. All I have to do now is bring it up with you, and..." he shrugged, not bothering to point out that he had, in fact, done just that, if in a rather round-about way.

_A spark-merge._

The word brought back memories a lot stronger than Ironhide had expected, memories of what had been and was and might just be as past mixed with a possible future, the raw feeling of a still-open wound that was losing a spark-merged mate, pain and loss and everything that had come before, and he forced it all back under control again and more than halfway suspected the Seeker's influence was to blame.

"A spark-merge," Ironhide repeated out loud and Will shrugged with a casualness that Ironhide knew him well enough to see was forced.

"I'm a human, 'Hide. If we'd both been Seekers, I'm sure we would just have _known_ in some magical, mystical Seeker-y way, but we're not. I'm a human and all I've got to go by is a grouchy old medic and a Seeker-half that's still running on mostly-basic programming. Maybe there's some right way to do it, bring little wrapped cubes of Energon or something, but I don't know it, so I'll make due with what I have."

Since Will had brought it up with Ratchet himself, Ironhide didn't really doubt that he had gotten a thorough lecture about just what he was trying to get himself into, but he still had to wonder. Seekers weren't known for being stable and while he wouldn't have doubted the whole thing if it had just been Lennox the Human who'd brought it up, Will the Seeker was something else entirely. He had felt first-hand how fast their moods could change and there wasn't any guarantee that spark-merging hadn't just been brought up in a good mood and would be regretted with the next fickle change of mind.

"A spark-merge," Ironhide repeated again, this time in more of a question than a statement, and the way Will paused for a moment was reassuring. It meant there was _some_ kind of activity happening in his processors. What _kind_ of activity was another question but at least there was someone at the wheel.

"There's a ton of reasons to say no, I know," Will admitted. "Spark-merging with one of the few mechs that could take me down if I went off in the deep end? Not the brightest idea. Spark-merging with a Seeker with no common sense or much in the way of survival instincts and which is more than likely to get itself offlined sooner rather than later? Definitely not a bright idea. Spark-merging with a human-turned-Seeker that's had way too little time to get used to it all and could go bananas next week for all we know? Pretty damn high on the 'dumbaft ideas' list."

"On the other hand, it would make the bird-brain in your head less likely to take off with the 'Con fraggers," Ironhide replied. "And you've found some advantages to it, too, or you wouldn't bring it up now."

Will nodded. "'Con fraggers," he confirmed. "Stability. Keep the Seeker part happy." He paused and his hesitation was clear through both body-language and their bond - a lot more obvious than it had been as a human, and even more so when held against what a ground-bound warrior-build would be likely to show. "I trust you. This is - I'm about as clear-headed as I'll ever be again, 'Hide. Sooner or late, it'll push for this and I probably won't have a choice. I'd rather do this when I'm the one that makes the decision. I know the Seeker wants it. This way, it'll be me as well. Sarah accepted it. Ratchet didn't sound too convinced but he didn't tell me to forget about it, either."

Reasonable, logical, with all the little pros and cons written up like the good commander he was, and no fragging wonder Ratchet had frowned. If he didn't think his used-to-be-human partner would get confused, Ironhide would have laughed. As it was, he still couldn't quite keep his amusement from showing, anyway.

"He is a medic. Seekers are focused on emotions so I doubt it cares as long as it gets what it wants but Ratchet's a medic. He's not a warrior-build, he's not a front-liner, he doesn't have the programming or the mindset and he's not supposed to, either. Do you know what two special ops mechs call their spark-merge? 'A tactical advantage'. Because if you're strong enough, it will be."

Surprise mingled with dawning comprehension through their bond as Will got over his surprise and caught up with Ironhide's train of thought and Ironhide could tell the exact moment the credits dropped. "If you spark-merge with someone, you'll know everything about them. Everything they know, you know. How long is the reach?"

"Well beyond planet-scale," Ironhide responded. "There were limits but not enough to be a genuine restriction."

Will nodded distractedly, half of his attention clearly on this new bit of information he had been given. "So you have a partner you trust, you spark-merge with them... perfect, unhackable, untraceable audio and visual. Intel mostly, still have to find a way into enemy territory, but holy _frag._" He paused and Ironhide clearly felt the darkening of his mood through their bond, heavier emotions making their way into the mix of _surprise-determination-curiosity_.

"And if your cover was blown, there would be at least one person who knew what happened," Ironhide said and voiced what Will had already realised.

"No MIA," Will agreed quietly. "You might not ever find the body but at least someone knew what happened and whether you're long offline or still trapped in a cell somewhere. Does Ratchet know? Optimus?"

Ironhide shrugged. "Yes. They're not warrior-builds but they've spent enough time around us to know. It's not specific for us, just not that common in the rest. Normal mechs spark-merge because it's someone they want to share their spark and the rest of their online existence with. Us? Same reasons, I guess, we just choose to see it for the tactical advantage it is. It's not that common because we're all a little wary about that sort of thing in combat but we're not so stupid we don't see the potential. Jazz spark-merged after he went into special ops. Sideswipe and his twin were made as one spark split in two and have the same effect going on with them as a spark-merge."

It was more complicated than that but it wasn't the time or the place to get into whatever issues their older set of spark-split twins had, and silence fell as Will paused to go over what he had just been told. Ironhide didn't blame him. It was a lot to take in, and a lot different from what Ratchet had probably told him. If he had based his whole approach on Ratchet's word – and Ironhide didn't doubt that was the case – then it took some adjustment to adapt to what Ironhide had just told him, too.

"Tactical advantage," Will finally repeated and then gave him a vaguely accusing look that was belied by the sheer relief that flowed over their bond. "You could have told me before I worried myself half to death from this slag."

"I could," Ironhide agreed quietly. "I didn't wish to force a decision on you or encourage something you weren't ready for. It's a tactical advantage but it doesn't change the fact that all I am will be yours and all you are will be mine. Spark and body. To lose a spark-merged mate will leave scars that will never completely heal, even if it is a union based on reason and trust and with a military focus. Bonds like those are no weaker than any other, just based on different emotions that are no less strong."

"Partnership with benefits." _Relief-hesitation_ with that bit of determination still in it but there was something underneath it all as well, the same sense of _lust-want-__**attraction**_ that Will's uneasiness about it all had drowned out, and then Will grinned, a glow in his optics mirroring his mood. "You propositioning me, 'Hide?"

He wasn't always sure anymore what was Will and what was the Seeker, too merged to really tell completely most of the time, but the words were all Will and the feeling behind it was familiar, too, a light-heated challenge that lacked the darker seriousness of the Seeker.

It was still a challenge, though, and Ironhide gave a dark purr in response. "So what if I am?"

Wings moved, flared to draw instinctive attention from Ironhide even as Will responded with a smugness that brushed against Ironhide's spark in a deceptively light, taunting way, and there was the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something, that there was something he should _know,_ but it was dismissed an instant later when Will spoke. "I'd compliment you on your taste in partners."

Ironhide snorted. "Fragging bird-brain's got more vanity than processors in there."

"Says Mr. Cannons-For-Brains."

Oh, yes, definitely Will in there. Fragments of a moment of pause and then Ironhide held out his hand. _Trust me?_

There was no hesitation in Will's response.

_With my life,_ he said, and accepted.


	34. Chapter 31

**A/N:** Statistics are not conductive to smut-writing. Trufax.

**Son of A/N:** Thank you, thank you, thank you to Eowyn77 for the extra read-through/betaing and reassuring me that yes, it can actually be posted :D

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There was less than a second of warning, a flash of intent through their bond, but it was all Will needed. Ironhide sent him tumbling an instant later but Will was already moving, drawing on a subconscious mix of Ironhide's lessons and the impression of the front-liner's own hazy memories through their bond – not enough to really get the upper hand, never enough to win, but still enough to matter.

He landed mostly on his feet, narrowly missing one of the parked Jeeps and almost losing his balance in the process but it was still a hell of a lot better than he would have managed without Ironhide's lessons.

For a moment his processors snapped into combat mode, ready to defend themselves in the unannounced training session... and then he realised what the mech was up to at the silent purr of a challenge over their bond and the responding flare of _dominance-battle-possession-__**mine**_ from his Seeker half. There was the strange feeling of unfamiliar fans brought online somewhere in his body – not quite starting yet but the definite expectation of being needed soon enough – and the look Ironhide gave him would have been enough to make him more than a bit edgy as a human, moving like a predator with a grace that should not be possible for someone that big and heavy. Will wasn't human, though, not anymore, and the Seeker would never accept being considered prey, and the smirk they offered in response was all challenge. They might be going down but frag it, they were going to earn the beating.

"If you wanted an aft-kicking, you could just have told me so, 'Hide. It's okay, we're friends, we're not going to judge you if you're into weird-aft-"

That was as far as he got before Ironhide struck again, no warning at all from their bond, and the gleeful thrill of raw _pleasure_ from the Seeker was both alien and familiar in a way that he had no time to think about before they hit the ground and were pinned against the tarmac by the familiar weight of Ironhide. It sent the sensor nodes in his wings blinking like a Christmas tree on speed and made a silent demand of _strength-dominance-__**control**_ flare up as they spotted a familiar Energon-line between Ironhide's armour plates as he moved, and they took their chance and made a grab for it. Maybe the mech had expected it, maybe it was just good reflexes, but while he twisted himself out of their reach, it didn't stop sharp claws from leaving near-perfect lines down his chest.

Ratchet was going to _kill_ them for it but somehow Will couldn't bring himself to care as the Seeker sent an impression of smugness to their mate.

_Marked property,_ Will added with a smirk. _Your aft is mine._

Which was entirely the wrong thing to say – or entirely the right, Will was never going to be sure about that one – because he was back on the ground a moment later with the Christmas tree of sensor nodes blinking in his processors again in what he'd swear was a mocking little soundless tune, and he couldn't quite keep himself from groaning.

_Seeker reflexes, my shiny, fragging-_

_-Property,_ Ironhide finished for him with a dark purr to send a shudder through Will's body, and there was absolutely no doubt that the mech knew what that voice did to him, and did it entirely on purpose, too. He arched his back without thought and gave Ironhide the chance at his wings that he had clearly been waiting for. The ghost of a touch against the still-sensitive NEST tattoo on one wing, and then one strong hand gripped the ridge of the same wing tightly for an endless second and tore an involuntary moan from Will as sensors flared up for entirely different reasons. _I outrank you, Lennox. That aft is mine._

Gathering his wits again enough to respond to that took a lot more effort than Will was ever going to admit to, and the Seeker was absolutely no help at all, either. The bird-brain had been reduced to a mental puddle of lust in an embarrasingly short amount of time and Will admittedly wasn't doing that much better. _Age before beauty? _he asked flippantly. _Frag you and the ship you-_

And whatever else Will was going to have said was gone a moment later when Ironhide tightened his grip on Will's wing again and drew a strangled whimper from the Seeker-human in question, processors gone in a confusing haze of lust and pleasure and fight and ohgod_more_ as he tried to figure out if he should fight back or just lean back and do his best not to think of Cybertron in the _least_, because Ironhide's hands were pure witchcraft and if this was what pawing at his wings could do, he was mentally cursing every divine being who might have cared to listen that they hadn't used their first make-out fight session to explore the possibilities of it all.

"_'Hide_." It sounded uncomfortably like a plea instead of the firm demand he'd intended but Ironhide's touch had turned from a rough grip to an only slightly less rough exploration of his wings and even the fact that he could somehow find the brain activity to think, much less actually say something, was pretty damn impressive to Will.

The mech in question seemed to agree because the feeling Will got through their bond was distinctively smug before it faded again to give way to a mix of lust and protectiveness and an undercurrent of silent fascination that Will instinctively understood. He was a Seeker and Seekers were a breed all their own and however many mechs Ironhide might have been with in his long, long existence, there had never been a Seeker among them. Every touch, every reaction, every claim was new territory and the possessiveness that surged through their processors at that was as much the human as it was the Seeker.

He twisted sharply, a pang of regret as he lost the touch of Ironhide's hand on his wing but gone before it could truly register to either of them, and talons dug deep under scarred plating and tore through connecting wires like strips of paper. Sheer strength and surprise let Will flip their position, knew damn well that there was no way he could keep Ironhide pinned if the mech didn't want to be and beyond caring as he let Seeker instincts take over. Ironhide seemed willing to play along for the moment and Will freely took what he was offered – the temporary surrender of his mate as curiosity about what Will was doing won over the satisfaction of a good fight.

One clawed finger brushed a secondary Energon line under the heavy plating that covered Ironhide's chest, analysed and categorised fragments of a second later as something that would be annoying but non-fatal to have broken and left untreated, and two pairs of burning optics met before Will smirked and the claw curled sharply against the underside of the plating to neatly sever the line.

Pink stained the tip of his claws, black armour, flowed freely from the torn line even as self-repair systems kicked into action and began to stem the flow, and he lowered his head, mouth poised bare inches above still-leaking Energon.

_**Mine.**_

It was a promise, threat, warning, claim; mate and _his _as he bit down sharply on the line to keep the wound open, and it was joined by the sound of tarmac cracking as Ironhide dug his fingers into the ground in an effort to stay silent and not give Will the satisfaction of a verbal reaction. Not all pain, either, if what Will picked up from the bond was anything to go by, and he smirked as he let go of the line and lifted his head again and let Seeker instincts take over. This time, the Energon flowed for long enough to coat his hand and pool where it could, making its way between plating and clinging to wires and lines, and there was something about the taste and scent that marked it as different from his own. Not by much, barely enough to matter, but still a reminder that he was a Seeker now and Ironhide was anything but. Different bodies with different purposes and however trained his mate might be, Will still had both weight and sheer size on his side. Not enough to win a fight but still enough to cause serious harm on accident.

The Seeker part stirred, snarled its annoyance at being denied what it wanted, and Will let it take over again and followed its lead. His optics glowed brighter and he held Ironhide's gaze as he reached up and rested one hand on the black armour above Ironhide's spark-cage.

Stained claws curled against scarred plating, drew a screech of metal against metal as he dug in as deep as he could before his fingers took too much of the strain as well – crude, forceful motions but there was purpose somewhere underneath the lazy lust of it all, something past the pure, intoxicating feeling of _control_ and having Ironhide at his mercy, and when Will finally let go again, the deep gorges had filled with the pink from Ironhide's own torn Energon line to turn into a softly glowing glyph. It looked a lot worse than it was, Will knew – Ironhide was a front-liner and meant to take a beating and there were very few sensors in that armour compared to the amount found in a Seeker's wings – and Ironhide's darkened optics that were the only response he had given came from Will and the Seeker's emotions and the act itself more than any physical sensation.

_Mate,_ the Seeker purred silently as it took in the view, its mate marked and claimed for all to see. _Mine._

His fans had turned on at some point – cooling fans, he realised distantly, and it was so much different when the heat came from your core and wasn't just an easy way to show off – and the sound mingled with Ironhide's own cooling fans and the harsh sound of venting intakes.

Ratchet, Will figured in a moment of clarity, was going to _kill_ them.

He wasn't aware that he had transmitted that at all, through his bond or otherwise, but he obviously had because the impression of Ironhide's purr filled his mind a moment later and distracted him from the feeling of the mech shifting almost imperceptibly underneath him.

_Ratchet,_ Ironhide smirked, _can go frag himself._

One second of even moderately docile Seeker was all Ironhide needed for an opening. The breed was meant for flying, never for ground-based things, and Will was painfully reminded of that fact as Ironhide took advantage of gravity and experience to send Will tumbling to the ground and tore a strangled whimper from him when Ironhide gripped both of his wings.

He was tempted for a moment to keep fighting just to feel that grip on his wings tighten and soothe the near-panicked _need-lust-__**desire**_ but the thought was gone when Ironhide moved one hand to trace across the wide expanse of metal and linger on the still-sensitive tattoo. Metal-on-metal shouldn't feel so fragging good, shouldn't make every sensor hyper-sensitive and feel like the metallic equivalent of having your hairs stand on end from static electricity, and Ironhide of all mechs sure as frag shouldn't be able to turn him into a whimpering mess of... something just by stroking his wings like some stupid pet bird.

He should argue or complain or do _something_ but in the end he just groaned again and then whimpered at a particularly successful stroke of the tip of his wing. "_Fuck."_

_Amusement-lust-smugness_ from Ironhide, bastard that he was, and Will was going to pound the ever-loving slag out of him when he got coherent enough again to do anything other than arch into that touch like some horny teenager, and he wasn't sure if he should beat up Primus or thank him for giving him wings like that.

Entirely too talented fingers traced one tattoo again, followed the curve of the wing to where it joined his body, and he felt the first, small jolts of electricity in the wake of that touch as the charge grew. It felt vaguely familiar, he realised, something he recognised from his first time in his alt mode but this time he didn't try to rein it back in.

Instead he reached blindly for Ironhide, dug sharp fingers in between layers of plating to draw a hiss of _pain-lust-want_ from the mech, and he got a slight twist of one wing in return as a silent warning and promise both.

The air from Ironhide's intakes was near-scorching and his own probably wasn't much better, but he didn't care when Ironhide finally spoke out loud in a voice that was little more than a dark purr, low and dangerous and belying none of the silent fascination Will felt from him through their bond.

"That sensitive, Lennox?"

The words sent another flare of arousal through their systems and energy bolts dancing across wings and plating, white-hot and burning to leave freezing cold behind, and frag it all to the _Pit_. "No, I'm here because I like the view. For frag's sake, Ironhide! Get your aft in gear or I'll kill you and I swear they will never find the body."

Another dark purr at that and a silent promise of a very long afternoon if Ironhide felt like it, but the grip still tightened to draw another pleading sound from him.

"Touchy, touchy. The word you're looking for, _Will_, is 'please'."

Fragging smug amusement that made Will and the Seeker both itch to turn the tables on the front-liner again but their control was shot to the Pit and their focus wasn't much better, and then one of Ironhide's hands trailed from his wing and to the point right above his spark and their world descended into nothing more than a blaze of _lust-desire-mine-want-__**claim**_ as that pulse in his chest responded to the presence of their mate.

Lines of code had responded the moment Ironhide's intentions became clear, rearranging itself to activate dormant programming and put into motion the complex series of commands and codes needed to open the multiple layers of armour that protected the very heart of his being. It was better protected than anything else on this new body of his, could probably handle a shot that would have turned his arm into scrap metal if need be, but right now Ironhide's presence was all that was needed to bring online the last bits of coding that would complete the sequence.

The sound of shifting plates was little more than a low whirr but Ironhide still heard it or recognised Will's intentions from the emotions across the bond. The mech froze for a moment in sudden uncertainty-

- _worry-hesitation-desire-__**choice**_ -

- And Will took the decision out of his hands when his fingers tightened around the edge of one piece of armour plating and he pulled with deliberate viciousness to bring their bodies close and complete the sequence with the last piece of armour that was still in the way.

_The word I'm looking for is **mine**_, Will smirked and scraped the underside of the much-abused piece of armour to draw a sharp sound of pain-pleasure from the mech. _**Mine** and **ours**. The only one who'll be begging is you, old-timer._

A blue glow joined the drying pink of the Energon on Ironhide's chest as the final layer of armour that covered Will's spark parted – soft at first but growing stronger fast, flickering across black and grey, casting deep shadows in Ironhide's features and adding an unearthly look to already blazing optics, and it was as fascinating as it was terrifying to Will as he realised that he was looking at his own _soul_, laid bare and unprotected between them.

Even the Seeker's overwhelming desire to claim and mark and _keep_ couldn't override that terrifying moment, and it was probably a testament to how far they had come that the Seeker actually reined in its emotion a tiny degree – still there, still tempting, still impossible to really ignore, but it was enough that he could think somewhat clearly again.

Ironhide felt his fear and hesitation and hesitated himself as well to let concern show through their bond, and finally Will lowered the last of his mental shields around his spark and allowed it all to catch up with him – the fear and uncertainty and sheer terror at the thought of what they were about to do, utterly unfamiliar territory and nothing that could be reversed again if he got it wrong, and he pushed it all aside with stubborn determination to focus on his mate instead.

_My choice, Ironhide,_ he said, quiet, serious, and willing the mech to understand, to see that it was _him_ and not the Seeker, that he could still think clearly through the lust and it wasn't just arousal talking. _Nobody made that choice but me. The Seeker wants it but it didn't suggest it. So I'm a little freaked out – soul-sharing isn't exactly something humans do, in case you hadn't noticed. It doesn't mean I don't want this._

Having said what he needed, Will did his best to force those emotions aside and smirked instead as he tightened his grip on the plating again. From what he picked up from their bond, this time it definitely hurt and he would gladly pay for that later if that was what was needed to get Ironhide to move his goddamn self and _do_ something. _So to put this in terms even a front-liner should get, I want this and you stopped touching my wings. And if you don't get your rusty, glitch-infected aft in gear, I'll-_

Whatever it was that Will intended to do, exactly, he would never know for sure because the thought was gone the moment Ironhide moved and the scarred armour that shielded Ironhide's own spark parted. The glow of the two seemed to feed on each other and intensify until the light was blue-white and near blinding, and whatever doubts he might have had left were gone when Ironhide crushed their bodies together and closed the last, few inches between them.

There was pain and pleasure, bright and glorious and terrifying, an alien feeling of _something_ as his spark reached out to join with Ironhide's-

- And vertigo made his mind spin at a dizzying pace as his world exploded into a million pieces and reshaped itself back together into the single, all-consuming point that was his spark-merged bond-mate. It was clarity and overwhelming and too much and not _enough_ and the fear that it would be too much was still there but for now he was still stable, could still find himself in the back of his mind, and knew somehow instinctively that however inexperienced he was, Ironhide was there as well and wouldn't let him fall too far into the maelstrom that surrounded him.

He was Ironhide and he wasn't, saw Ironhide see himself through Will's eyes, saw himself through Ironhide's eyes in turn and understood for the first time just why the Seeker could preen about its own appearance because through his mate's optics, the same creature that look downright ugly to a human became something exotic and desirable and elusive; and he had no time to consider it any further before he fell deeper into that presence and there was nothing left in his spark but the ancient, steady presence that was Ironhide and the overwhelming knowledge of a long, long life of memories.

Cybertron was the strongest among those memories – home and not home to the Seeker presence that still didn't quite know where it belonged – and a spark-wrenching feeling of _loss_ at towering buildings that would never be again, glimpses of gardens he would never walk in and comrades he had never known but still missed in a strange way as the memories settled into his spark and became just as much a part of him as his own life had been.

War, combat; painful choices in the heat of battle, cutting losses so others could live, senseless destruction as city after city was thrown into conflict until the entire planet was engulfed and it was pain tinged with pleasure or pleasure tinged with pain as the memories of so many losses were tempered by the intimate knowledge of the mech above him and the absolute certainty that whatever he was and whatever he might still become, he wouldn't be alone.

He was vaguely aware of his own clawed fingers digging into plating, of energy dancing across armour and in between wires and seams to be lost in the blazing blue glow of their merged sparks; Ironhide's hands on his wings again and gripping with the same fierce desperation that Will himself felt, the constant feedback of his emotions felt by Ironhide felt by him and fed back through Ironhide as pleasure fed on pleasure and burned through any other emotion there might be left-

- And he felt it in the back of his mind as they fell over the edge, as the world was nothing but blinding, brilliant pleasure, the feeling of metal yielding under Ironhide's hand, and the last thing he was aware of was the sudden, panicked realisation that his wing was numb and he _couldn't feel-_

- And the world went white as the last coherent thought was gone and there was nothing left but instinct and the desperate need to fly.


	35. Chapter 32

**A/N:** The next few chapters might be a bit late since I've got a deadline at work coming up. Hopefully, they should be out on Thursdays as usual but I figured I'd offer a warning, anyway *cough*

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Will came back online to a world that felt disturbingly, pleasantly... fuzzy. There was a nagging feeling somewhere at the edge of the fuzziness, something he was supposed to remember, but it was lost again in the haze of... wherever he was before he could grasp it. Stubbornness made him try again and watch it flutter away once more but this time it was joined by the only slightly more substantial feel of a hand held gently but firmly against his neck and a scan brushing lightly across his actual, physical processors. His optics were still offline but that knowledge was nothing but a distant little flicker of awareness and gone again a moment later as well, the fuzzy, woollen feeling of his mind too nice to bother with little things like that.

"Awake, I see." A voice somewhere in the haziness – Ratchet, he realised, _Ratchet_, he knew that one – and then the scan was gone and the grip on his neck tightened slightly and the medic continued before Will could even think of an answer in the pleasant, fuzzy haziness. "Do a full scan of your wings."

He recognised that particular tone of voice as one he shouldn't argue with and he obeyed without conscious thought. The scan started up sluggishly as it slowly became something substantial in the fog in his mind, then grew faster as his processors caught up with it and had just about reached something approaching normal speed by the time the stream of results appeared.

"No damage found, full responsiveness, no loss of sensors, not even as much as a scratch," Ratchet summarised somewhere beyond the haziness. "Agreed?"

Not a question, that, and Will was still too out of it to do much more than notice that his own sound of agreement was clearly Seeker based rather than Cybertronian or human, and the grip on his neck seemed to hesitate for just a second before it let go.

"Good. Do it again." Definitely not a request and this time the scan responded faster as the unnerving haziness he kept being unable to get a proper grip on slowly lifted. The result was the same – no surprise there – and this time Will managed to get his thoughts together enough to actually respond.

"All good. Nothing's wrong, Ratchet." Cybertronian this time – not something he would normally have thought about anymore, switching between Cybertronian and English without even thinking about it, but for the moment his mind was still sluggish enough to notice something like that.

He was about to ask what the medic was on about when Ratchet spoke again and chased the thought away.

"I'm glad we're in agreement, then." Sarcasm, Will's mind told him, and didn't he know big words today? "Release him, Ironhide."

Release him from _what_, Will was about to ask, but the answer came when Ironhide did exactly as told and the blanket of haziness was torn away between one second and the next. Knowledge flooded his systems, brought optics online and sensors back to full strength and the world into perfect, painful clarity, and it felt like the worst hangover of his _life_ as god-knew-how-many-hours of sensory information caught up with him.

Disoriented, confused, a weird feeling in his processors and an even weirder one in his spark... he shifted through memories that still hadn't settled down right-

- Fear, pleasure, possessiveness, Ironhide, _mine-_

- And the dawning panic at the memories of a wing he couldn't feel and couldn't use and _couldn't fly_ was ruthlessly suppressed as the scans that Ratchet had repeatedly insisted on took priority and calmed down the still-confused Seeker in his mind. The memories were still enough to make the Seeker shudder but at least it wasn't about to panic anymore.

Ratchet watched him carefully – and given the reaction he'd just had, Will really couldn't blame him – but didn't object as Will sat up carefully and his wings shifted instinctively to reassure the Seeker part that the scans had been right. No lag, no numbness, no sign at all that one of those wings had been injured and while Ratchet was good at what he did, repairs did take time, and that brought up another question.

"How long was I out of it?" he asked, almost scared of the answer.

"Sixteen hours," Ratchet reported and the glare he gave Ironhide told Will without a doubt that his... mate? Bonded? Whatever you called someone you shared a _soul_ with had been given a few choice words about... whatever had happened. More stuff he didn't know, Will realised, and didn't the day just keep getting better?

Ratchet seemed to know what he was thinking – the bond, probably, because Will was in absolutely no condition to care one bit about the bond, much less shielding it – and answered before Will could ask.

"Ironhide, in one of his usual stunning displays of restraint and good judgement, managed to injure your left wing. It wasn't a serious injury but it was enough to trap several important wires and cut off roughly two-thirds of all sensory input from that wing. The wing itself was undamaged but you were unable to feel it. As a result, your Seeker half panicked. Ironhide, in a display of _actual_ common sense, used your new bond as spark-merged mates to keep you from... I suppose 'going on a rampage' would be an exaggeration. You would probably have hurt yourself more than anyone."

_Frag._ He'd already had a bad feeling about the utter lack of memories after the panicked realisation that he couldn't feel his wing – nothing but blankness between that moment and then waking up in Ratchet's care in a fuzzy, hazy world – and that just confirmed that bad feeling.

He turned his head to look at Ironhide who waited a bit away, knew instinctively where to find him and just as instinctively needing to see him, and then asked the second question he was scared of hearing the answer to. "'Hide?"

His processors took a quick stock of what he saw, matched scars and marks up with memories and winced at the stuff he couldn't recall. The glyph on Ironhide's chest sparked plenty of images, a mental overlay of glowing pink where armour had been repaired but not yet repainted, and a muted feeling of _smugness-pride-__**mine **_that he couldn't quite suppress. Thin lines almost overlapped to the right of it, small enough to be almost invisible against plating and a perfect match for his fingers. No sign of the Energon line he'd cut open but then, it would mostly have sealed itself and it was normally hidden under a piece of plating, anyway.

Plenty of damage dealt that he remembered... and looking at the missing paint from one piece of shoulder armour, something that looked like it had been dented and twisted and then forced back into place, probably more than a few injuries that he didn't.

_Frag._

Something stirred in that unfamiliar place in his spark, reached out instinctively to find his mate, and memories that weren't his flooded his processors to fill in the missing pieces that Ironhide knew he needed to see. There was no request, no argument – Ironhide simply _knew,_ knew that Will had to know and reassure himself, knew that whatever Will's mind could imagine on its own with no facts would be much, much worse than the truth, and so he made no attempt to stop it but merely pushed the memories carefully to the forefront of their bond to let the spark-merge handle the rest. It was different from a normal bond, Will understood that now at a level he hadn't before – something much deeper, much more permanent, much more intimate, and he didn't realise how much that spark-merge craved physical proximity until Ironhide moved closer with a bit of hesitation Will knew instinctively was based on Ironhide's fear of driving off their human-turned-Seeker more than any fear of what said Seeker was capable of.

At their side, Ratchet merely snorted. "All minor issues. He almost lost that piece of shoulder plating but it wouldn't be the first time. Old plate-head there has had encounters with Megatron's cannon at point-blank range in the past and lived to tell the story. I assure you, there would be very little one young, panicked Seeker would be able to do to its spark-merged mate that would cause Ironhide serious damage. He can consider it just payment for his stupidity in not listening to his medic."

_Lessons, _their bond filled in before Will could even ask. _We needed lessons before doing... this._

Lessons. Will had forgotten about them entirely and Ironhide... had probably done the same, since none of them were stupid enough to cross Ratchet without good reason. Will had obviously been forgiven on basis of his age, being a Seeker, and general reasons of formerly-human stupidity. Ironhide, on the other hand...

"I got it, medic," that familiar voice rumbled in annoyance. "I get the point. I'm not going to forget again."

Lessons, Will realised in between Ironhide's memories of claws and bright, panicked optics and a screech that could have deafened a human, were a good thing. He could have killed someone. Maybe not Ironhide – even if Will was not going to put that theory to the test – but Ironhide hadn't been the only thing out there, not when they'd been in the middle of-

Something else hit home and Will groaned. "Tell me we didn't get in on in the middle of a runway."

"Technically," Ratchet corrected him, "you were close enough to the hangar that you weren't on the actual runway anymore. Which is rather good, considering the damage the two of you did to the tarmac. But to answer your question: yes, you did in fact put on a rather thorough display of claiming your mate, and there were quite a number of calls from ground control who were somewhat worried about the two robots that were apparently trying to kill each other. I believe Commander Epps was complaining rather loudly about paperwork last he visited."

And wasn't he a cheerful little sadist today, their medic. Will groaned again. "Please tell me nobody caught it on camera."

_On Diego Garcia?_ Ironhide's smirk carried over entirely too well through their mental bond, and it was going to take for-fragging-ever to get used to that sort of bond. Everything he ever wanted to know about his mate-partner-brother-in-arms was right here and not all of it was easily blocked. At least there was the comfort of knowing that Ironhide didn't seem to regret it. Considering that the mech had just spark-merged with a Seeker that was only slightly more stable than nitroglycerin, Will had honestly been a tiny bit worried. Not something he would ever say out loud but then, he apparently didn't need to anymore. Ironhide, at least, seemed to be able to filter the connection a lot better than Will but then, he had practice and plenty of stubbornness to back it up. Will and the Seeker, on the other hand...

Yeah. _Definitely_ something that would take some getting used to. Like certain other things but there was a limit to how much his brain could handle at a time and right now, he was pushing it.

_Frag it,_ he finally sent back. _If they were stupid enough to hang around to watch, they deserve the mental trauma._

Another smirk from Ironhide as he held out a hand in a silent offer and Will accepted it, hauling himself to his feet before Ratchet could object.

The world wobbled slightly as his mind got used to the whole place feeling somehow... off, like a faint, superimposed image on top that didn't completely match what he saw, and it wasn't until he focused on it that it faded and made his dawning processor-ache stop again.

Ratchet's soft snort was enough of a 'told you so' and the faint feel of a scan wasn't unexpected, either. "How do you feel?"

His wings moved on their own accord to reassure him that they were still there, still attached, and still functional, and Will gave the weird, mental sort-of-overlay a cautious poke in his processors. "Weird. Floor stopped spinning but brain can't really decide what it's doing. Seeker's..." he paused, genuinely surprised. "Pretty damn quiet, actually. I'm mostly me. I think." A shrug, awkwardly accepting what he really couldn't change. "I'll probably never know for sure anymore."

Ratchet just nodded and didn't look surprised in the least and that small fact alone did a lot more to reassure Will than he had thought it would. It was entirely unfamiliar ground for him and it helped a little to know that their medic recognised his state of mind... or was good enough to fake it. Right now, Will wasn't going to be peculiar about that.

"Your Seeker part, I suspect, is focused on your spark-merge. You react slightly different than I would expect a normal, newly spark-merged Seeker to, but it's your first merge and you have two distinct personalities at play. Far less distinct than at first, I'll grant you, but still very much individual personalities. One spark-merged mate at any one time is what most ground-based mechs will be happy with. Some have more, certainly, but they aren't programmed for it in the same way a Seeker is. Any proper Seeker Trine has spark-merged. It is in your programming to not just be able to adapt to multiple mates like that but to consider it a preference, too." He paused to let Will catch up with it all and when he continued, his voice was slightly gentler and more sympathetic. "You will feel unsettled as the spark-merge is fully integrated and the bond becomes a permanent part of you but it won't take long and once that has happened, that unsettled feeling should disappear. It usually takes a little longer and is felt a bit more strongly with your first spark-merge but nothing to be concerned about."

The world looked less confusing already, so Will settled for hoping he was right about it and just nodded. "So human's present and accounted for and the Seeker's... off doing stuff, basically. Making sure the temporary wiring won't snap on accident or something."

"Essentially, yes," Ratchet agreed. "Ironhide kept the Seeker as well as a good part of your mind... sedated, I suppose, while you woke up. It gave you a chance to return online with a level enough head that the repairs to your wings could register before you panicked again. Leaving any part of the Seeker in charge would more likely than not have brought you out of recharge fighting."

Which explained the fuzzy world he had woken up in and which he really had no wish to visit again any time soon. Even less so now that he'd learned what it actually was.

Flickers of memories from Ironhide, too small to really block anymore with a bond as deeply-anchored as the one they now shared, and it was too little and too much and too confusing, and he made a frustrated sound before he was even aware of it.

"So what happened while I was out of it?"

He had his suspicious, bits and pieces of a conversation that couldn't quite be blocked, an overwhelming flare of anger that was gone again a moment later, and the silence that passed for several seconds before Ratchet spoke was all the answer Will needed to confirm those nagging suspicions.

"Starscream."

And frag it all to the _Pit, _but he hated being right.

His optics met Ironhide's, didn't need to ask but received a silent acknowledgement, anyway, and then his mind was gone in the unnerving sensation of being here-but-there, watching the world through Ironhide's eyes, from Ironhide's point of view and with Ironhide's bias, and it was like stepping into shoes that someone else had already worn – comfortably used but not quite _right_ and he wondered briefly if it was one of those things that he would adapt to or if it would always feel somehow off.

"_It is an offence punishable by slow, painful offlining to keep a Seeker from the skies, Autoscum,"_ Starscream sneered in the memory and felt entirely _wrong_ in the way his voice made him shudder from the sound of it, a world away from the smooth, compelling power the Seeker heard and entirely unwanted now. He had been mostly neutral about Starscream's finer qualities in that regard as a human – he'd had plenty of reasons to hate the Seeker as it was – but if that was how a ground-bound mech like Ironhide heard his voice, it was absolutely no wonder they hated it so much.

The memory of Ironhide was furious and looking through his optics, it was a wonder that Optimus' response had been every bit as calm and even as it always was.

"_In that case, Starscream, it is fortunate that we have not done so. Freedom is his right, as it is for all of us. I would not keep him from the skies. He is free to fly as he chooses."_

Starscream sneered again in a way that felt entirely too familiar to Ironhide. _"Obviously, then, it is __**purely**__ coincidental his... reluctance to fly comes immediately after I spoke to him. How strange, Prime, when he has not been reluctant to communicate with me before. Perhaps someone was __disappointed that he chose to listen and hear about his kin? Or did you use the Hatchet's knowledge of us to ground him in a web of weak, pathetic, worthless Autoscum lies? No true Seeker would keep from the skies, Prime."_

It was insulting, it was snide, it was baiting, and still their Prime didn't rise to the bait and even without his new Seeker temper, Will wasn't sure he could have done the same if it had been directed at him. Optimus Prime had the patience of a fragging saint.

"_A compliment, Starscream, or simply a convenient deception until he rejects your offer?"_ their Prime asked with deceptive mildness, and Will didn't doubt in that moment that the mech knew a lot more about the Seeker side of politics than he let on sometimes. Seekers who had joined the Autobots in the past had all rejected their loyalty to kin in the process, and more often than not their loyalty to bonded ones or mates as well. To Starscream, no Autobot Seeker was a true Seeker, and the strong lure in his words and clear interest in Will was only there because he wasn't convinced that this new, young Seeker was an Autobot by choice.

And whatever Will or Ironhide had expected, the smirk in Starscream's voice in response was not it.

"_Merely the truth, Prime. He is young and untested but a Seeker nonetheless. Whatever mate you keep leashed to rein him in, whatever chains you have put on him, he will break them. No true Seeker would keep from the skies and no true Seeker would remain with those that would see it grounded, chained, and reduced to nothing more than a mere ground-pounder. Even his name is almost a proper Decepticon one. Release my kin, Prime, or suffer the consequences."_

Snide, proud, compelling, _Decepticon, _and even through Ironhide's view, even with the shudder from the sound of Starscream's voice in his head, the lure had appeared again. Seeker instincts overrode it all, the instinctive need to listen to his Air Commander and leader of the first-among-trines, a shiver at the sheer power in the words and awe that it was for the sake of _him;_ that Starscream's claim on his kin was enough to pit him against Optimus Prime, against Ironhide and Sideswipe and anything else the Autobots could throw at him, simply to reclaim someone he considered rightfully his and offer the freedom that the Autobots didn't give-

- And the sudden, clear shudder of disgust through their bond was enough to remind Will that his bond with Ironhide was permanent, what he felt, Ironhide would be able to feel as well, and right now he was doing very little to shield that bond. A good reminder that his Seeker side's fascination with Starscream was definitely not shared by his mate and Will at least had the good grace to offer a silent, embarrassed apology before he surrendered to the last bits of the memory.

"_With Megatron's blessings?"_ Only Optimus Prime could put so much of a challenge into so mild a question, spoken as little more than a casual remark but with all the weight of a serious warning behind it and the silent reminder that Starscream's word, whatever the Decepticon Second in Command thought, was not yet law.

The bait failed as Starscream laughed, harsh and grating on Ironhide's processors. _"Lord Megatron was not brought online with wings. He was a mere ground-pounder but saw the wisdom in Primus' creation of our wings and reformatted himself accordingly. He is not a Seeker but understands... enough. Far more than you ever will, Prime. Prepare your mindless little drones. You will surrender him freely or we will take him back by force. Hail the true children of Primus!"_

The last declaration sparked something in Will, memories of a talk they had already had, and it forcibly pulled him out of the memory and back to the present. His processors were still a jumbled mess from it all and it took him a lot longer than he liked to sort through what he had just learned.

Starscream, Megatron, war, trap, battle, _claim;_ and _frag it_, he didn't want to deal with it but in the end there was little choice at all. He might not want to deal with it but that wouldn't stop the 'Cons from going through with...

"What's their plan, anyway?" he asked quietly.

He saw the glance Ironhide and Ratchet exchanged through Ironhide's eyes as they seemed to silently debate something, and then the medic spoke.

"They've apparently prepared to strike against a number of targets that are sufficiently vulnerable to large amounts of damage and important enough to matter. They are being rather blatant about it, too. We suspect they will be equally blatant when they do choose their target. They will strike with their full force, which leaves us with an all or nothing option. To send only a fraction of our forces would see those mechs offlined and unable to stop Megatron's forces. Either we do nothing – which we are all perfectly aware is not an option to Optimus – or we send our full force to match them. Depending on whether you go with us or remain here, it will either bring you within close range of Starscream and Megatron, or leave you vulnerable here, which you would object to. They may not be able to get through our defences here easily but it would not stop Starscream from contacting you and the bond with Ironhide is still new and vulnerable. With Starscream so close and your spark-merged mate so far away, you might not go with him but he could still very easily draw you outside of the defences here."

"And I wouldn't stand a chance in the Pit against Starscream in a one-on-one fight," Will finished and stated out loud what they all knew. "Why me? I know I'm a Seeker but you can't tell me they do this sort of thing for anyone. I'm just a Seeker, Ratchet. We're stupid and impulsive and got wings. If they do this, they're going to suffer casualties. You can't tell me that Megatron-"

"-Would do in on principle," Ironhide half-growled and sent a surge of anger through Will systems before it was gone again, reined back in. "You're the only Autobot Seeker left. He'd want you away from us one way or another for that reason alone."

Which didn't make any more sense than Ratchet's explanation did and Will made a frustrated sound before he focused on his mate.

_I'm just a Seeker. I'm not even good at it, 'Hide. I'm not that important._

He could feel Ironhide try to find a way to explain it better, to make it make sense to a human who wasn't used to their society at all, but surprisingly it was the Seeker part that spoke first, quiet and unnervingly docile in what was clearly a very long afterglow.

_We used to be. We are Seeker. The sky is our dominion._

It didn't make much more sense than Ironhide's words had but it still triggered something in him, some dawning understanding of what he was up against. Megatron was old – younger than Ironhide, but still older than dirt. He'd known Seekers when they ruled the skies with violence and all the possessiveness the breed usually showed. There weren't many left of any kind of Cybertronian anymore but that knowledge had stuck with Megatron. If the loss of a mere ground-pounder could earn him a Seeker, Will realised, then Megatron would do it without a second thought... especially on a planet with so little in the way of air defences that could be used against one of the breed.

_Yeah,_ Ironhide finally agreed with a small sigh. _What it said._

The order to put things into motion, work out what they were dealing with and how to counter it was at the tip of his non-existing tongue when he stopped himself with a sick feeling in the pit of his equally non-existent stomach.

He couldn't give those orders because he wasn't the one in charge anymore. Epps held the human side of NEST now, Epps would be the one in charge of planning it all out, Epps would be the one to give those orders. William Lennox would have been able to do that once but that wasn't who he was anymore. It hadn't sunk in until now, until the Seeker was sated and docile and resting for the moment and his head was as clear as it had ever been since he had first woken up in his new body. It hadn't sunk in until now and the knowledge made his spark twist painfully.

William Lennox had been in command. _Will,_ the Seeker, was not. Plans would be laid, decisions would be made, and he might even be asked for his opinion on it all, but it didn't change the fact that it was officially out of his hands and all he could do was wait until someone gave him his orders.

_Like a pawn. Like a fragging little trinket to be fought over._

He felt Ironhide's worry at the flood of emotions that followed and put every last bit of focus he had into blocking their bond to the best of his ability. He couldn't deal with that now, not when he had so much else to handle, not when he wasn't even sure himself what was happening.

Was that why Megatron had made Starscream his Second in Command? The one way to prove that he counted the breed – their breed, _Will's _breed – as something more than just flying weapons or chess pieces to be used as seen fit? The mech was a ruthless, psychotic freak of nature but then, most Seekers apparently shared those traits, too, and having Starscream for a Second in Command more than made up for that. A Seeker to command Seekers, like it _should _be. Not a ground-pounder who didn't know the first thing about what they truly were beyond their wings. Starscream was a manipulative, back-stabbing pest and undoubtedly had some very selfish reasons for what the 'Cons were planning but it didn't change the fact that he and Megatron were willing to sacrifice ground-pounder lives to claim him. Not a pawn in Starscream's hands, but _kin._ Protected, respected, and claimed.

"Will?" Ratchet sounded worried and Will ignored him. Ironhide was there, Ironhide was stability, but Ironhide was _Prime's._ He would lay down his life for his mate, would kill and die in his name, but the dark mech was Prime's and that wasn't something Will could deal with now. Not Prime and not Megatron, and Starscream made _sense_ and it was too much to deal with.

The shockwave of raw energy from his scan came instinctively, draining but not nearly as much as the first time he had done it, and it didn't make Ratchet wince the way it had the first time, either – definitely weaker but no less effective, now that he knew how to do it. Sarah's presence lit up in a nearby hangar – lingering there, he knew from Ironhide's memories, because they were worried about his state of mind when he woke up and not willing to have someone small and fragile around when it happened.

_Lennox? _

Ironhide this time but Will just shook his head. "I need to talk to Sarah."

Sarah was neutral, Sarah was on no side but his, Sarah didn't care in the least as long as he was safe, and he desperately needed that now. Someone safe and trusted and _his._

He ignored the way the world still looked strangely off and headed out of the infirmary before either of the two other mechs in the room could move to stop him. He heard his name, felt Ratchet's hand on Ironhide's arm as a silent order to stay where he was, and then the door closed behind him and the bond with Ironhide – mercifully – stayed silent as the mech understood what he needed and let him have his space.

He needed someone to talk to. Maybe Sarah wouldn't understand, maybe she wouldn't even know half of the things he tried to explain in a way that made sense to his now entirely-too-alien mind, but she would listen, he knew that much. Sarah would listen and Sarah was family. The 'Bots all had the higher authority of Optimus Prime to consider and Epps wasn't any different, but Sarah had none of that.

She was mate, she was family, and he trusted her.

To Seeker and human both, that was all that really mattered in the end.


	36. Interlude 4

**A/N:** Deadlines hit so my muse and I reached an agreement and settled for an interlude this week. It was that or four thousand words on the wonders of accounting with the occasional "Seeker" and "Ironhide" tossed in for good measure. The chapter next week might be delayed – hopefully it won't but I still figured I'd warn in advance again *cough*

* * *

Sarah Lennox had been twenty-two when she'd met the boy she would one day marry. Whatever else William Lennox had been at twenty-one, uniform, rank, and all, he had still been very much a boy in Sarah's mind. Silly, flirty, enjoying his legal drinking age, and very much looking for trouble. He had grown up, of course, as they both had, had grown more serious and more mature as she watched the little stripes and badges on his uniform change and increase in number over the years, but a bit of that boyish manner had always remained and Sarah didn't mind. It had been part of the package she had married, after all, and after a decade of marriage, it had still made her smile... in between counting the many, many grey hairs she'd found herself with after said husband had accepted the position of commander of NEST.

He had asked for her permission before he had accepted, in his own round-about way as he tried to explain as much as he could without getting himself into even more trouble, and while she hadn't objected, she didn't doubt that he would have turned down that position if she had honestly told him she would prefer he refused. That offer had been there every time he had renewed his contract – she was the one at home, she was the one raising their child on her own, she was the one waiting for the knock on the door that might one day come, and however much of a boy he had always been, he had known the realities just fine. It had been close before, too close for comfort sometimes, and she had always known that there was a very real risk that his luck might one day run out.

In the end, there hadn't been a knock on the door but a phone call instead. NEST could move fast when it had to and she had been on a plane less than two hours after getting off the phone with a Robert Epps who had at the time clearly still been in too much of a state of shock to really say much, much less string together a coherent conversation. She had gotten the gist of it – enough to know that her husband was in trouble and it was _serious_ – and she had been told the rest when she had arrived.

Been told the rest and been properly introduced to the most recent arrivals among the alien war machines that her husband had worked with – towering, intimidating beings that she still hadn't quite gotten used to. The first introductions shortly after Qatar and Mission City had been... unsettling and taken a while to properly sink in, but that had been under carefully planned circumstances and with Will right there as he introduced his new partner-in-crime. This... this was something else entirely and not appreciated in the least, worrying about her husband while trying to navigate the chaos that was the NEST base and alien robots that occasionally had far more weapons than processing power. Getting clearance and being introduced to them due to the risk that she might one day find herself in an alien-related emergency and thus had to know who she could trust was very different from being more or less moved to their base overnight, with only Annabelle and a few suitcases for company.

Between the shock of her husband's condition and being dumped in an entirely unfamiliar base in the middle of the Indian Ocean she had done the only thing she could do: drawn on every last inch of mental strength and willpower she possessed, focused on their daughter, and otherwise been there whenever they had most graciously allowed her to see her husband turned alien robot.

And there she went with the sarcasm again. Her mother, Sarah knew, would be appalled to hear it but she couldn't bring herself to care in the least, and certainly not when it came to the ill-mannered Hummer they called a medic. The jury was still out on the rest of the Autobots for the most part – Sam and Mikaela seemed to like Bumblebee, and she supposed that counted in his favour, and she was still a touch annoyed with their leader as well, but she hadn't been around most of them enough to form any sort of well-founded opinion of them.

None of them except Ironhide and even that had only been a rare, few meetings and a lot of stories from Will. Carefully censured, of course, but enough to give her a feel for the being behind the armour and weaponry and enough to make her cautiously trust him, too. Will trusted all of them but she wasn't Will and right now, Ironhide was about as far as she was willing to go on the whole 'trust' issue. He wasn't that different from her husband, when it all came down to it. More serious, more temperamental, more easily annoyed, but not that different. What Will might be, she suspected, twenty years down the line. Twenty years and entirely too many of those dedicated to war.

She stopped her restless pacing in the hangar – back and forth and back and forth and _back_ while she waited for the news that was so very long in coming – and fumbled with the small comm-link that they had given her and which she still wasn't used to at all, the insistent sound it made not helping in the least, either.

Finally she managed and she kept her voice as even as she could when she responded. "Yes?"

"He's on his way." The voice was familiar – not familiar enough to tell much based on his tone of voice but still enough that she relaxed slightly at the sound of it.

"I'm not surprised. I felt his scan again," Sarah said softly. "Thank you, Ironhide."

There was some sound that could with some generosity have been called an affirmative acknowledgement before the comm-link went silent again, but Sarah didn't mind that, either. She was used enough to a husband that was very much not a morning person when he was on leave and never took it personal. Ironhide's little quirks were no different in that regard. A grouchier, bigger, more trigger-happy Will, that was all. Alien, perhaps, but still comfortingly familiar in his own way.

The comm-link returned to its pocket, and Sarah didn't have to wait long for the sound of mechanical footsteps that were slowly becoming familiar. Familiar enough, at least, that she could tell his footsteps from Ironhide or the others' – the detached, analytical part of her knew it was because his legs were very different from any of the other Autobots' and that he was a lot heavier than most of them to boot, so of course it would sound different when he walked, and the rest of her didn't care about it in the least. It was her husband so of course his footsteps were supposed to be familiar. Even if they weren't quite human anymore.

The figure that appeared in the entrance to the hangar was both familiar and utterly alien at once, slowly becoming increasingly _normal_ for her to look at but still a very, very strange sight and still something she doubted she would truly be used to for a long time, much less the knowledge that this was her husband now. She could have met him outside, she knew, but had decided against it. She knew him, knew that there was a lot more of the human self inside that being than their medic and the rest of them probably suspected, and Will had never been big on public displays of anything. She didn't doubt he had joked about it but she knew him well enough to know that the human part, at least, would be beating itself up for a long time for allowing itself to get that... _intimate_ with Ironhide on a runway in full sight of everyone.

His body language seemed to agree with that as she could actually see him relax slightly at the sight of her and then kneel at a cautious distance away in the slightly-awkward way that she didn't doubt was a purely human thing. The alien body wasn't meant to move like that, not with the sort of legs it had, which meant that it was very much a human thing and another bit of evidence that there was more of Will in charge in there than their medic might be willing to admit.

She moved closer with a pale smile – tired, relieved, worried, and ruthlessly squashing that feeling of nagging jealousy that her husband shouldn't be that close to anyone but her – and then she closed the distance between them and sat down gently in the hand that he so carefully offered to her. Still unsure about his own strength, she suspected. Still not entirely convinced that he wouldn't forget himself and hurt her the moment his attention flickered for even a second. She trusted him but it would take a while before Will would trust himself.

"You are going to give me white hair before I'm forty," she said softly. "Never mind grey. At the rate this is going, it's all going to be white."

Will snorted; a very human sound from an utterly alien creature. "At the rate this is going, I'll give _myself_ white hair." He paused and she could see the slight shift in his body in silent, tired defeat before he even spoke. "I'm sorry."

He didn't elaborate and he didn't need to.

The hand under her was oddly warm and comfortable for something made of metal and clearly designed for war, and she let her fingers brush lightly against one of his before she spoke, taking in the still-alien presence of... whatever he was these days.

"Do you regret it?"

The hand underneath her tensed slightly, just as the rest of him did, and while he didn't look human anymore, she could still read at least part of his body language. Some was obviously human, some was alien and took a bit more guessing to get right, and some seemed to transcend little things like size and species.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly.

The truth, that, she could tell that much and there was far more in that sentence than the words let on. He had never been good at talking about things so she had learned to read between the lines from plain old necessity. The lack of an outright 'yes' combined with his actual answer meant that he didn't regret it if she didn't and while she was tempted for a long moment to tell him to stay the hell away from them, to tell them to keep their looks and comments and hands to themselves and damn well leave her husband alone, she also knew she couldn't do that. None of them particularly cared what the actual paperwork said but even then, she knew just fine that it wasn't just her husband anymore, body language alone could tell her that. There were two distinct personalities and only one of them was hers. The other one might have staked a claim, too, or whatever alien robots did when it came to cross-species things, but it didn't change the fact that it wasn't her husband, wasn't human, and didn't share the same ideas with her particular culture – about relationships or anything else.

The fact that it had apparently influenced her husband, too, wasn't something she particularly liked but she also wasn't blind to the fact that the influence went both ways. She sincerely doubted that alien part would have cared the least about her otherwise.

"At least you have good taste," she snorted, momentarily annoyed with the whole damn lot of them again for putting her husband in that situation in the first place, and then she calmed down again and curled up in his hand. "I don't like it but you need it. It's not a lack of self-control or because you don't care about me. It's... programmed. Hard-wired," she said quietly. "It's not something you can really fight."

Another alien thought she still wasn't comfortable with. She had grown up with the concept of free will and the right and responsibility of making her own choices. Something like programming that told you to... to _interface_ or suffer actual, physical consequences and become a genuine danger to your surroundings was a very uncomfortable thought and not something she particularly liked to think about. It brought up entirely too many questions about consent and about whether or not it was even possible to actually give consent when you didn't have a choice in the first place, and those thoughts were unsettling enough without applying them to the very real situation her husband found himself in. How could anyone be sure what was programming and what was choice when it was hard-wired into your being?

Will shifted uneasily – another gesture that reminded her of the human he had once been – and Sarah continued before he had the chance to argue with her. "I know you tried and we all saw what it resulted in. You could fight it but that wouldn't be good for anyone, much less you. I mean it, Will. I like Ironhide. I trust him. Yes, it's... it's a bit of a strange situation, but we'll adapt to that. I'll fight for it if you do, too."

He lifted his other hand to caress her hair with one infinitely gentle metal finger, his voice relieved when he spoke. "I will. I'm still myself, just... taller and uglier. It's pretty for a mech, apparently, but..." he shrugged. "Still ugly to me. We stopped arguing about that a while back, it and me."

And there it was again, the reminder that there were two personalities in there, even if his whole way of being hadn't made that perfectly clear almost from the first moment she saw him. There was less of it now, though. Some was still human, some was still very alien, but a lot of it had blended to some degree to some strange mix of mannerism and behaviour that was both disturbingly familiar and at the same time so very much not.

"Not ugly. 'Different', honey. The word you're looking for is 'different' or 'unique'," Sarah said mildly. "Mind your manners. I don't want Annabelle to pick up that kind of thing."

Annabelle, their daughter, the biggest of the remaining issues that no one seemed to have anything even approaching enough backbone to even look at, much less deal with, and she both felt and saw as Will stayed unnaturally still for a moment.

"She's fine," Sarah said before Will could argue, her voice low and soothing. "She's fine, Will. There's a day care on the main base where she spends most of the day. It's a nice place. Not too many children and they're used to strange working hours. She's fine, Will. We still have to figure out what to tell her and she has figured out that something is wrong but for now, she's just fine."

"Keeping her away from the crazier of the 'Bots?" Will asked quietly. "Good idea. I trust them, but..."

He shrugged carefully, mindful of Sarah still in his hand, and Sarah nodded her agreement. Bumblebee had been careful around her and was used to human teenagers, and Will might trust them but that didn't change the fact that they were massive, alien robots and letting a three-year-old near them was asking for an accident of some sort. As for Will himself, she had gotten every impression that he was unsure about his own new body at best and that even picking her up took most of his attention to stay even remotely calm when faced with the very real risk that he might accidentally harm her. Picking up something as small and fragile and with as little a sense of self-preservation as Annabelle...

_No._

Allies or not, friendly or not, kind or not, that was her little girl and Sarah was not letting anything harm her if she could stop it.

Unhappy with the way her thoughts were headed, Sarah shook her head and forced herself to change the topic. Will was there for a reason, after all. He might not even be aware of it but she knew him well enough to be able to tell and she could guess the most probable reason, too.

"So can I expect a search party to show up any moment or did you actually have permission to leave?" she asked dryly. Ironhide hadn't mentioned anything but knowing her husband's reluctance to stay still for any period of time...

His alien features weren't really meant to convey the feeling of sheepishness but he managed surprisingly well, anyway. "Ratchet didn't tell me to stop," he argued half-heartedly. "And he had fixed all the dents."

He paused and the sheepishness faded to be replaced by quiet seriousness. "I had to know. I had to see you. Starscream mentioned some things and I was... reminded of a few things on my own, too. I'm stuck in the middle of a tug-of-war and there isn't a fragging thing I can do about it other than wait and see what boss ends up holding my leash." There wasn't quite bitterness in the last words but the annoyance was more than enough, anyway. "I had to see you. I had to make sure you were at least sort of okay with this."

There was more in that than he said out loud but those lines weren't hard to read between. She wasn't Optimus Prime's, or one of the enemy, or whatever other sides might be involved in it. She might not know a lot about what was happening or how to help but she would do her damn best to be support if he needed it, an ear if he wanted to talk and a shoulder to rest on if he was tired, and he needed that reassurance now.

"You know I am," she agreed, just as quiet and serious. "And the rest?"

Silence. Nothing in his body language she could read and recognise, nothing but silence that stretched on for several long seconds before he touched her hair again gently. "We'll handle it."

Plenty of things left unspoken in those words – _we'll handle it through whatever means necessary _and_ don't worry about it, _along with a personal favourite she wasn't sure about but strongly suspected to be true, anyway: _We don't have a plan but that never stopped us before._

Nothing she could do or say about any of that so instead she just sighed. She'd never liked it much but then, it was nothing she hadn't tried before when he had still been human. The stakes might be higher this time and the focus more on her husband as a person and not just as the guy who happened to be in command, but it was still her husband in a nutshell, impulsiveness and all included.

"Just don't get yourself killed," she finally said softly.

_Please. I can't handle it, not again._

She didn't need to speak those words out loud. Will understood just fine and that gentle feel of metal fingers rested lightly on her shoulders in a surprisingly warm touch.

The lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know, too.

_I can't promise that._

She put her hand on one of his fingers in her own silent response and squeezed slightly. It was different from gripping his hand but it got the point across, anyway, she hoped.

_Then try your best._

She got a wry half-smirk in response. An alien one, granted, but still mostly recognisable. _Trust me._

_Brat,_ she responded silently with a light smack against his hand before she looked up at him again. _Feeling better? _she mouthed soundlessly. Spoken words could be overheard. Sure, someone could spot them and make out somehow what she was saying now, too, but the chance was a lot less and this was... personal. Not something she felt like sharing with the rest of NEST, human or alien or otherwise, however much of a right to her husband's life they might think they had.

He nodded almost imperceptibly in response and rested one gentle finger against her back. _Yeah. Thank you._

"They'll probably be looking for you soon," Sarah finally said softly. She suspected so, at least, based on what little she knew about their medic and considering that Will had apparently left without actual permission, she couldn't even blame him, either.

Will just offered another wry smile, that gentle caress of a finger against her back never stopping. "Then let them look." _I'm not going anywhere._

Sarah knew she should argue, should probably tell him to get his metallic behind back to their medic and get the all-clear just in case, but she didn't. It was her husband, they were hers, both of them, they were there, and for now, that was all she cared about.

The rest of the world could wait. For now, Sarah Lennox was content.


	37. Interlude 5

**A/N:** In which Starscream talks and there is plot development. And moderately unstable!Starscream. And one author who really, really hopes this interlude makes sense in the least. Those curious are welcome to ask – I don't mind giving spoilers after this point in the fic and this thing _is_ planned all the way until the end.

* * *

It had started with something as simple as a comm-frequency.

_(Some might have claimed had started with the satellite images Soundwave had sent back with the clear image of an Autobot Seeker, but Starscream did not agree – it was a Seeker and he would have felt it when it was ready to fly as one; glorious, unbound, and untouchable. He did not need a glorified communications system to find his kin, whatever their most exalted leader might think.)_

It had started with a comm-frequency and a simple response. There had been a time when Starscream would not have cared for the well-being of one mere Seeker, much less a pathetic Autobot one, but that time had long since passed.

_(Starscream had never been the best of Air Commanders, had never surrendered enough to that web of connections that bound all of Seeker-kin together, but he had been skilled and ruthless and brutal and he had done what he had deemed best for his kind. All, really, that could be asked from any Air Commander. It had not been Starscream's fault that most of his kin was worthless at best.)_

The youngling had responded, uncertain and stubborn but not entirely a lost cause. An Autobot, perhaps, but clearly by leash and limitations rather than choice. Starscream, whatever other flaws he had-

_(-And Starscream would argue with that; his predecessors had been weak, **content**, self-centered and arrogant without the perfection to back it up. Starscream was not. What they called weakness was strength, what they called egocentric insanity was command, and for all of their pathetic attempts on his life in the course of the War, Starscream-)_

- was still the Air Commander and knew every Seeker that had been born under his wings. This youngling, chained and enslaved by the so-called goodness of the Autobots, was not one he recognised... and that had been enough to make instincts hesitate and bring up long-forgotten programming to handle a situation that was entirely alien to him.

Perhaps it had been a stolen youngling, kept it stasis. Perhaps it had been frozen on a worthless speck of dirt in the outer reaches of a utterly uninspired part of a galaxy, encased in ice as the fleshlings had claimed of it in their own report.

_(Starscream did not believe that for a moment. There was justice in their leader's **unfortunate** imprisonment, as if the universe itself mocked the ground-pounder that thought itself Starscream's superior, but it could not be true for their unknown youngling. Old enough to fly, old enough to claim kin and mate and bonded but still too immature to have been so far away alone. Too young to have been present to fall prey to the planet as their leader had, and Starscream felt a rare moment of anger at whatever worthless kin of his that had let a youngling be taken and sent into Autoscum hands.)_

Perhaps it had even been the sparkling of an Autobot Seeker, however unlikely and distasteful Starscream found that idea. Optimus Prime knew the truth, whatever it was, and Starscream intended to find out by whatever means necessary. Where there was one youngling, there could be others, and newly-reawakened programming rose up in anger at the thought of Seeker sparklings in the hands of unworthy ground-pounders.

It had not been an Autobot by choice, at least, Starscream knew that much. The connection was still there, the faint bond that connected any Seeker to its Air Commander. No Autobot Seeker had kept that bond... no Autobot Seeker that had _stayed_ an Autobot, at least. It could be broken, painfully and in a way that left permanent scars on the spark of the Seeker that tore apart that connection. It was unnatural at best, an abomination to most-

_(-because what true Seeker would irrevocably abandon their kin, their bonded, their **trine-mates**; deny a fundamental part of themselves and never feel that closeness again-)_

- because once done, it could never quite be repaired again. The connection was still there which meant that the youngling was not yet lost completely. Deluded but... with some hope remaining, perhaps.

Worth, at least, a genuine attempt-

_(-and if it had not been, none of Megatron's grand commands and threats of deactivation would have done a thing to make Starscream put actual **effort** into converting the worthless creature-)_

- and further contact had yielded more useful information. _Will_ lived up to his designation; stubborn, annoying, and a pest when he put his processors to it-

_(-and there was no chance that the Autoscum had named him so; Starscream knew the kind of designations that Seekers-turned-traitors had claimed in their new lives and while 'Will' was not impressive for a Seeker, it was still a Seeker-name-)_

- and still there was... potential. He had listened and more importantly, he had yielded far more than any of the Prime's worthless Seekers would ever have done. Fleshling and Autobot markings meant nothing – the Seeker was already under Starscream's command. It would merely be a matter of making the youngling see that.

It would mean reactivating parts of his own programming that Starscream had deactivated not long after the War began but that would be an acceptable annoyance to tolerate for what little time it would be necessary. Any actual connection to other Seekers was something Starscream had severed not long after pledging loyalty to the Decepticon cause. Anything beyond the absolute minimum of a superficial bond of an Air Commander that Starscream had not been able to dispose of despite his best efforts would be a weakness and a liability in combat; not just to himself and his trine-mates but to all of them. It had been... **useful** in peace-time, an indulgence and a thrill of power at the sheer command he held over his kin, but it would be useless in war. The base bond that remained no matter what was enough to keep watch over Seeker-kin. Anything past that was a potential risk and a weakness that could be used against all of them. The bonds with his trine-mates were strengthened instead to ensure their mutual survival, and he knew through that weak bond that his kin had followed suit.

_(Perhaps, before, there would have been time and the luxury of curiosity and scientific interest to consider what a shift like that would do to them, but it was not before and War offered no such luxuries. Survival mattered above all else and idle curiosity was not something Starscream would have time for again.)_

To bring it back to gain the sufficient hold needed on the new Seeker did carry a risk, Starscream knew, but not enough to be a genuine concern. The few Seekers that were left were all-

_(-too few; so few that it had never been a concern what such a loss would do to their kind because it had been inconceivable that Seeker-kin would be reduced to what it now was; so few that the network of bonds and connections that had once fed them strength and skills and made them think and act as one entity had now reduced them to shadows of their Air Commander: unstable, mercurial, sadistic, and brutal. Few and becoming ever fewer; no longer genuinely alive, but merely-) _

- survivors, used to war and well able to handle it should it come to that and the benefits far outweighed the risks. His programming did feel... peculiar when he brought it online again but that wasn't a concern to Starscream, either. It had been a long time since he had been able to remember how that programming had originally felt, much less actually had it online, so some shifts in his processors were to be expected.

There might even, to Starscream's furious disgust, be bits of ground-pounder coding there for it to clean out first before it could function properly. He had spent entirely too long in the company of their **glorious** leader and like a virus, the mech had a way of infesting every part of a system. Starscream wouldn't even have put it above their most magnificent leader to have done it on purpose – force his own pathetic limits on Starscream in a vain attempt to prevent the only worthy leader of the Decepticons that remained from claiming his true place.

In the end, though, it was all merely a minor annoyance and easily handled and so Starscream ignored it and focused on the Seeker itself. Megatron listened-

_(-of course he listened, as if something sparked as a ground-pounder could possibly understand what Starscream was doing-)_

- and heard nothing that Starscream didn't _permit_ him to hear. Will was a Seeker; he would understand what Megatron did not. Starscream could speak of loyalty to the cause, of the glory of Megatron, but in the end any Seeker was loyal to its Air Commander, whatever Megatron's inflated ego might think.

It had started with a comm-frequency, had continued with a simple response and long-dormant coding brought back online... and for a moment, that was where Starscream had almost thought it would have ended, too. It had come close – the _words_ had been purely Autobot drivel and worthless declaration of loyalties to a Prime that cared nothing for their kind, but the bond remained. By choice or by ignorance, the bond remained and so did Starscream's influence. He used that newly-reawakened programming to reach out and strengthen that influence and to his surprise, found more than one bond respond.

One Seeker and one re-emerging memory of the faint, faint bond of the groundling medic – Seeker-kin turned Autoscum when he should have stood by his kin and true faction, a coward at best and guilty of treason at worst, but someone with enough Seeker-programming to enable a bond and one that had, Starscream noticed with no small amount of satisfaction, never formally been broken, either. Lost, forgotten, **ignored**, but not broken – by choice or ignorance, as with their Seeker, it didn't matter as much as the fact that it was there. Worth, perhaps, the attempt at reclaiming him. There were precious few medics left and even fewer that had been trained by Seekers, and Starscream carefully put aside those half-formed plans for a later time.

He had strengthened that bond and he had used it and when they had spoken again, he had seen the effects as well. The youngling had yielded and Starscream had spoken and drawn on echoes of genuine beliefs he hadn't held in a long time. Memories of what had been and what could have been but still genuine and that had carried through as well. It had been less difficult, too, than Starscream had thought but then, the memories were still there to draw on.

There _had _been power and ideology and the sheer, raw presence of Megatron in his prime-

_(-not a Seeker, never a Seeker, but with **wings** and that was more that Optimus Prime could ever claim-)_

- and while the reality was gone, the echoes of it remained. He was trapped at Megatron's side now but even as he plotted to dispose of his leader, he never regretted his choice. Then, as now, it was about survival, always survival; the one duty to Seeker-kin above all else. Neutrality would have seen them crushed between opposing armies and Optimus Prime had been the weaker foe.

_(The merciful one, the **forgiving** one, should they end up on the loser's side.) _

Starscream craved power, craved the satisfaction of an enemy brought ruthlessly to its knees, but he was the Air Commander and he had to consider all eventualities. Kin mattered, however worthless it might be. Kin mattered above all. The rest, Starscream knew, was irrelevant and so there was never really a choice.

He had spoken, Will had listened, and underneath it all, in the echoes of their bond, Starscream felt the presence of mates as well. Ground-pounders and Autobots-

_(-because what else did that worthless faction have-)_

- but it did not change the fact that they were _mates._

_A true groundling mate to a Seeker would follow_, he offered through their bond even as he spoke the words out loud, a longer, more detailed explanation to distract his youngling, stress the importance of his words, and make their Prime remember to _fear._

If they were true mates, if Will was a true _Seeker,_ then Starscream could decimate their worthless faction through nothing more than reclaiming the kin that was properly his. Claim the Seeker and the mates would follow. If they were true to their mate, they would _follow._

They would follow, they would be claimed, and Starscream had hid the victorious smirk he had felt not long after as the bond flared distantly under his focus and a panicked distress signal had followed suit. The youngling had reached out-

_(-and a youngling it was, because he remembered that feeling, the panic of someone young and inexperienced denied its wings for the first time-)_

- and with it came the knowledge of the mate it had bonded with in the moment of blind panic before the connection fell silent again and Starscream's eyes glowed brighter in satisfaction.

The weapons specialist, the two-legged cannon with far more ammunition than sense; stubborn and simple, but also violent and _strong._ A proper mate, if one had to deign to claim one among the grounders. He had contacted them to mock them and taunt, to remind the Prime that there was someone out there who kept an eye on that young Seeker and would tolerate no more abuse of him, and most of all to leave a lasting impression on that young Seeker that had instinctively reached out in a moment of panic. Starscream's words would filter back to him and remind him just where his true loyalty should be. A more time-consuming approach than Starscream might have liked but worth it all the same.

Ironhide was firmly claimed and the rest would follow. Ironhide and... the whisper of an undercurrent that was almost familiar and annoying in a way that made Starscream's optics narrow before he dug deeper into that bond. Strangely familiar and... Seeker-ish. Seeker-ish but not a Seeker – the medic, then.

_Trying to replace what you once had, **Hatchet**?_ Starscream hissed over the faint bond with the medic. The Hatchet wouldn't hear it, what was left of his programming was too weak for that, but it satisfied some fundamental bit of programming in Starscream that demanded retribution for the betrayal of their own.

_(Stronger than it had been before, stronger than it had even been since not long after he had severed all but the most basic of their connections as they had joined in the war, but Starscream did not notice that. He had responded before, demanded retribution before, but that had been a matter of principle, a demand for respect, and not something that came from the very foundation of his programming. This, he did not notice, either. He had remembered once what the world had felt like before, around kin and mates and with instincts that did not need to be reined in to avoid the displeasure of their leader, but that had been a long time ago and Starscream had not lingered on what had once been.)_

Retribution was needed and then... perhaps not. The bond with the medic remained and the ground-pounder was apparently a mate to their young, new Seeker, and if Will came under Starscream's domain, so would the medic.

Forgiveness could, perhaps, be earned. The bond remained, after all, and Starscream held command over any creature in Seeker-domain. The Hatchet could be influenced and made to see sense, and Starscream would deny the Autobots their prized medic and claim it for himself in one swift move. Worth, perhaps, some lenience with a creature that obviously had not known better.

The weapons specialist, the medic, and something else, faint and barely there at all, but unmistakeably a bond of some kind. Not something Starscream could identify, though, and so he pushed that thought aside for the moment, too. If it mattered, he would learn. If it was a proper mate, Starscream would find out its identity, it was only a matter of time. If not, it would not matter, anyway.

The newly reawakened programming still felt strangely foreign to his mind at times as it settled into places in his processors that had been occupied by more important matters, but Starscream ignored this passing annoyance. It was useful programming, after all. There had been sound reasons for restricting it when they had first allied themselves with Megatron and now there were just as sound reasons for permitting it back, if at least for a brief while.

When he bonded with his trine-mates again, that change would be carried on to them as well, but that, too, was an acceptable annoyance. They were strong-

_(-almost the best, almost his equals, or he would not have tolerated them-)_

- and they would adapt as they always had. It would weaken them for a time, perhaps, leave them open to outside influences, but their supremacy was unchallenged on this pathetic speck of dirt and so the benefits outweighed the risks. He needed that programming for now and to deactivate it before their new Seeker was truly theirs was not an acceptable option.

He would tolerate it for a while, he would claim their Seeker, and he would decimate the Autobot forces in the process. Not for the cause or for Megatron, but for _kin._ And perhaps, in his darkest, most brutal fantasies, it would gain him the advantage needed to dispose of their useless Lord and claim the Decepticon throne and the glorious, new future he would lead them to.

Perhaps. For now, he would tolerate and endure and play his games as he claimed Will for his own right under Megatron's impatient glare.

_(Skywarp and Thundercracker, educated through aeons around their trine leader, would know better than to question Starscream's words. They would adapt as their Air Commander had, and they, too, would carry on that coding, and in the end the change would spread from one trine to the next as they avoided their ever-mercurial and notoriously busy Air Commander and went to his trine-mates instead as they always had when their reports or orders or requests it did not require Starscream's direct attention. _

_Perhaps someone from before, before the War and Megatron and the countless losses would have been able to tell that it was stronger than it once had been and remember that even the Air Commander was not invulnerable, that any bond went both ways and that sometimes the most dangerous viruses would sneak past because the carrier looked harmless._

_But there was no one left to remember and if there had been, they would, perhaps, have let it run its course regardless because they would also remember that Seekers had never been meant for what they were now: few and isolated where they had once been numerous and an entity as a breed in their own right. They would know the consequences of suppressing their programming to that extent and they would see the last, frantic warning signs for what they were and not merely the Seekers' notorious temper and impatience that those signs had long since been dismissed as._

_But there was no one left and unseen, unnoticed, one small bit of coding after another was changed and repaired as needed and came back online to be dismissed by Starscream as nothing more than an annoyance to become used to in time._

_A Seeker would have noticed. _

_But Starscream, with programming suppressed and dismissed and outright rewritten as needed, had long since ceased to be a true one of the kind.)_


	38. Chapter 33

**A/N:** This should hopefully be the last week of being insanely busy for now. Which should hopefully also mean actual chapters again now, instead of interludes :D

* * *

There had been a lot of details about leadership that Robert Epps had never considered until he had ended up in charge of NEST himself. He was intimately familiar with the paperwork, of course – Will Lennox had been notoriously good at delegating that sort of thing to his unfortunate second-in-command – but that had been then and being handed command of NEST had quickly taught him that there had been a lot of other stuff he hadn't really paid attention to before. The fact that he had taken over in the middle of a clusterslag of a situation hadn't helped at all, either. By the end of the first week, he had been sleep-deprived, buried in paperwork and various appointments, and not entirely sure what day of the week it had even been. Then he'd actually slept for the better part of a day, on a couch in one of the Autobots' hangars and well away from stupid people who might bother him, and things had looked marginally more approachable... but honestly not much.

Dealing with liaisons, politicians, paper-pushers, and whatever other disgusting things that appeared when Epps poked the numerous connections NEST had to just as many groups and people and countries and organisations was not something he had enjoyed as second-in-command of their little unit, and it wasn't until he got the actual brunt of their attention that he realised just how much of that crap their former commander had had to deal with and that maybe, just maybe, delegating all that paperwork hadn't all been laziness, even if Epps would deny that one to his dying day if asked.

He wasn't above taking pointers from more experienced people, though, even if Lennox probably didn't even know he had taught him, and so Epps had done the only reasonable thing and found himself an equally unfortunate underling-slash-minion to take the worst of the administrative stress from him as well.

That had taken care of the worst of the paperwork but still left him with the politicians and assorted other pests and it was nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't snapped at any of the idiots yet. Decepticons didn't kill themselves and inch-thick reports explaining 'budget cuts' and 'right-sizing' wasn't going to do a whole lot of good against thirty-something feet of psychotic, malevolent, red-eyed destruction, either.

The sympathetic look he had gotten in return when he had shared that particular rant with Optimus Prime had told him entirely too clearly that it hadn't been the first time they'd had that argument with the political pukes and that it damn well wouldn't be the last one, either.

It had started with paperwork, it had continued with Pit-spawned politicians, and it had all gone downhill from there. He had demanded – okay, possibly begged for, but Robert Epps was never going to admit that out loud to anyone – information and when he had finally gotten it, it hadn't taken him long to wish he could just un-read the whole damn thing again. In any other situation it might have been interesting – it probably wouldn't have mattered much in combat since Seekers were Seekers and best left to mechs like Sideswipe and Ironhide to deal with – but it would still have been interesting in the way that most things about their allies tended to be, for the sole reason that it was so completely alien that they couldn't have made up the stuff if they'd wanted to.

In any other situation it might have been interesting but not now, not when everything he read about Seekers in general and the current situation in specific got filtered through the knowledge that it wasn't some random flying Decepticon they were talking about but a former human that Epps considered a damn good friend. He had gone through the whole spectrum of emotions as he had read through the stack of material he had been given, from disbelief to anger to fear and grief and morbid amusement, and finally he had caved, waited until their human-turned-Seeker seemed to have a calm day and then gone to Ratchet for some answers that weren't in the shape of dry, scientific language that told him nothing beyond the fact that Seekers were some seriously messed-up fraggers and that however alien the Autobots might be sometimes, they had nothing on the flying fraggers that had always been so much of a pain to them in combat.

He had found Ratchet in a decent enough mood – suspiciously so, if Epps paused to think about it, which probably explained his willingness to go in detail to such a degree, and either the medic was being a sadist or it was his way of reminding Epps of just what they were dealing with and either way, he really didn't care – and he had left again an hour later with entirely too much information to file away and the vaguely twitchy, bemused thought that someone had really had it out for William Lennox.

The mechs probably disagreed with that part of it, Epps figured, but Will had been human and would have agreed. Not that Epps got a lot of chances to _ask_ but really, in that case he didn't have to.

_'Maybe',_ Epps had theorised in a quickly scribbled message through Will's personal comm-frequency in between the stupid meetings and paperwork that bred like rabbits on speed, _'you really pissed off someone in a past life.'_

_'Says the guy who got stuck with Sideswipe. What'd you do, steal candy from a bunch of nuns?',_ Will had sent back via email and Epps could almost hear the snort in the words. Winged bundle of issues or not, at least some part of Will was obviously still in there and Robert Epps could work with that.

Sarah Lennox seemed to agree with him and that was surprisingly comforting to know, too – and not just, Epps realised, because of the whole 'married' issue. Sarah Lennox was a good judge of character. Sarah Lennox had always been a good judge of character and for all that her husband was now stuck as something big and winged and ugly and alien, she was still willing to fight for him and however stubborn she might be – and experience had taught Robert Epps plenty about that particular side of her – she wouldn't have been willing to do that if there hadn't been at least a small part of him worth fighting for.

A human part, Epps knew. Not the Seeker part that would as soon step on them as give them the time of day, but a human part. The part, Epps figured, that was still Will somewhere in the mess of programming. The part that gave their Seeker – or what little he'd seen of it, which hadn't been a whole damn lot – the human traits that Epps wasn't even sure the Seeker itself noticed. Enough to keep him from looking entirely 'Con, at least, and that made Epps sleep a lot better at night. Denial helped, too. He couldn't exactly delete a memory like the 'Bots could but that wasn't about to stop him from doing everything he could _not_ to think about Will's little training session with Sideswipe that Epps had been able to imagine in all too vivid details from what little he had heard from the mechs. Denial worked beautifully there and if denial was to credit for not having the image of one of Ironhide's cannon's trained straight on Will's spark running through his head whenever he thought too much about the situation, then denial was all good with him. He had enough to worry about without adding the cold dread of Will going 'Con on them to the list.

Not that Epps thought he would go along with it voluntarily for a moment but if even half the stuff Ratchet had shared about Seekers had been true, then consent wasn't a requirement when it came to a whole lot of things.

Possibly, Robert Epps was a teeny, tiny bit sleep deprived still but he wasn't about to admit it and his NEST team knew better than to ask and he could fragging well sleep when he was dead. At the rate things were going, that was the only sleep he'd get, too.

"Commander?" Optimus Prime's voice, low and calm, cut through the chaotic mess of thoughts that rambled about in his head and however many times he'd heard the mech speak before, it was _different_ somehow when you were the one in charge of the human side, when you were the one who made the decisions and the only humans above you were somewhere in the States, playing politics while people died. Equals, Epps had finally realised, or as close as it could be. Optimus Prime respected his troops, respected the humans who went up against the 'Cons at the Bots' side, but that didn't change the fact that there was a lot of difference between being second-in-command and being the one in _charge._ Never true equals, because there was a whole ton of issues that came with being Prime that Epps couldn't even begin to make sense of – and the religious aspect was probably the least of it – but... somewhat equals, at least.

Enough that it still unnerved him and made him wonder how long it had taken his former boss to get used to it and how long it would take before Optimus Prime realised that Epps had no clue what he was doing and lost patience with him.

Ratchet had told Epps to sleep more. Possibly, he conceded, the medic had a point. At least he was pretty sure that he hadn't been rambling like that to himself before the whole world had gone FUBAR on them.

_'Cons, Seekers, plans. Right._

Their Prime's voice still in the back of his mind, he forced his thoughts back into somewhat-focus and back on track again... for all of the good that would do him.

Robert Epps understood military strategy but Decepticons had never worked on human logic much.

"They're giving us every chance to stop them. They're _asking_ us to stop them. We all know Screamer isn't stable but Big and Ugly? I don't like him, Prime, and he's got some damn alternative approaches to handling troop morale, but he's not stupid. Arrogant, sadistic, and willing to throw away lives on a whim but not stupid. He's smarter than that."

Had to be, at least, to go up against Optimus Prime and hold his own... but then, going up against Optimus Prime in the first place wasn't exactly a sign of awe-inspiring intelligence to begin with. Competent, though, on his own merits, Epps knew that much even if he didn't like to admit it. Megatron might be a grade-A asshole but that didn't mean he was stupid in the least and expecting him to be could get them all killed.

"It gives him the psychological advantage," Optimus Prime responded and Epps suspected it wasn't all his own tiredness that made their Prime's voice sound a little weary as well. "In this case, it may very well be worth surrendering part of the element of surprise."

He paused for a moment and it was just long enough for Epps to hear the dreaded catch-all explanation in his head even as the mech spoke it. "He is targeting a Seeker. Common sense and known military strategies do not always serve their purpose in those cases."

_Right,_ Epps mentally groaned,_ he's a **Seeker**_, but the mech continued before any of those comments could be voiced out loud.

"The... display is aimed at Will," Optimus Prime said carefully. "It would have had little effect on a normal mech but for a Seeker, the rules are different. What Megatron does – what Starscream does, in all honesty, as he is undoubtedly a strong force behind this – is a reminder of the attraction the Decepticon cause holds for Seekers. Even Autobot Seekers had... abrasive personalities for the most part. Will, whatever he might have been before, carries around part of those same traits now. They may show to varying degrees and may at times not even show at all but they remain there all the same. Starscream is making a point and regretfully, William's new personality traits will not allow him to ignore it."

_Programming. Right._

Epps resisted the urge to rub his face tiredly. Alien robots had taken a while to get used to but the 'Bots had always made an effort to pick up some human traits. Even Sideswipe had adapted eventually. Not very well and Epps knew that, too, but enough that even his attitude on his bad days felt more like a human asshole with way too big of an ego than it felt like an alien. They were alien but acted surprisingly human for the most part. Will... really, really hadn't. Epps hadn't been around him that much but it had still been enough to make it very, very clear that there were two personalities in there and the second one was pretty damn alien. The whole 'programming' thing didn't help on that in the least. Epps liked to believe in personal choice and free will and whatever else had been hammered into his head over the years. Something like Will's programming that ran haywire if he didn't get laid and which was apparently wired to pay attention to _Starscream_ of all people... Epps wasn't too proud to admit that the thought was more than just a bit freaky and that if their new Seeker-human decided to go batshit insane from it, he really couldn't blame them, either. Or blame Will, at least. The Seeker probably didn't think it was a problem.

There was probably some interesting theories to make about programming and the nature or nurture slag he'd put up with from an ex-girlfriend in his teenage years, but NEST undoubtedly had smarter men than grunts working on that already and Epps' main concern was more aimed at the human-mech in question than the theories behind it.

"They know we can stop them," Epps finally repeated as he forced himself to start over and try to get somewhat of a grip on the special brand of logic that Seekers apparently used.

"They do," Optimus agreed, and not for the first time Epps mentally thanked whatever deity might be listening that they had a patient Prime. "Their target, whichever one they may decide on, is secondary, and yes, they are well aware that we will strike against them the moment the location they choose becomes clear. The display of power and decisiveness is the purpose of their attack." The large mech paused and Epps just knew he wouldn't like what followed. "I suppose, to a Seeker, it could be seen as a display of courtship towards Will."

_I hate being right._

There were a lot of things Epps could have said to that particular little bit of explanation but in the end he settled for the first thing his brain could think of: "He's married."

"Seekers," Optimus Prime responded dryly, "are somewhat confused by the concept of 'monogamy'."

_Trines,_ Epps realised, and wouldn't that just bring a whole 'nother level of _wrong_ to the situation the next time NEST went up against Starscream and the rest of the flying fraggers? Ratchet had mentioned something similar, in the written briefing and the lecture afterwards, but that had been _Ratchet_ and he wasn't exactly known for putting things in easy-to-understand packages when it came to medical stuff. That little bit of information had been there, it just hadn't clicked until Optimus Prime's dry comment.

Seekers were confused by monogamy, and even if Starscream hadn't been likely to at the very least ignore the fact that Will still had a human wife who refused to let him leave for her own good – and at worst try to kill her, even if Epps would do everything in his power to keep Sarah Lennox safe – it still wouldn't have meant a damn thing if he _had_ accepted her, because Seekers didn't do monogamy and the fact that Will already had a mate wasn't going to stop a determined Seeker.

Or Ironhide, apparently, but that mental image was something Epps could have lived just fine with never, ever crossing his mind again. The mech was right up there with Prime on the list of beings Epps would want to have at his back in battle, and target practice with him never got old, but that didn't exactly mean that Epps was about to... ask him out for Energon and a grope or whatever alien robots did for that sort of thing.

Even if his wife wouldn't have killed him for those kind of ideas.

Sarah Lennox, Epps noticed, had done nothing of that sort but that just reinforced his long-standing belief that nobody who was entirely sane could stay married to William Lennox. He wasn't sure if it had been Will-the-human or whatever kind of Seeker programming the guy now had that had gone after Tall, Dark, and Not Too Handsome, either, and honestly, he could live a happy life never knowing.

Determined to get off of that particular train of thought before it headed any further into too-much-information-ville, he forced his attention back on the situation at hand with less certainty than he would have liked – _sleep, sleep was __**good,**__ he should catch up on that one of these days – _and then pursed his lips in vague distaste as he silently demanded answers of the screen in front of him that it stubbornly refused to give.

"I wish to hell I could help but all we know about Seekers is to get out of the way and let Ironhide and Sideswipe have their go at the slaggers. If you have a plan, sir, I'm all ears."

And just like that he stepped down for the moment and let Optimus Prime take over – it wasn't a situation he had experience with, not a situation he had any idea of how to handle, and he wasn't going to risk the lives of any of his men because his ego demanded he got a say about something he didn't have a clue about. Working for NEST and fighting the 'Cons had a way of keeping you humble. Somewhat equals or not, he'd seen Will step back often enough when whatever they were handling got too weird. He had still been involved, still listened and learned and offered suggestions, but he had also made it very clear that he was in over his head and not afraid to admit it. It had become less common over the years as they had learned more about their new allies and enemies, sure, but he'd still done it occasionally. A lot of common sense for an officer to show but then, NEST had never been normal and Epps was starting to realise that he would have to get used to the weird ways of doing stuff sooner rather than later.

Besides, whatever Will might have been before, however much of the human might be left, he was still a Cybertronian now and that put him solely under Optimus Prime's jurisdiction. The 'Bots might take orders from select humans but when it came down to it, Optimus Prime's word was law.

"We have no choice but to move to stop them," the large mech finally responded as the view on the screen changed at some silent command to bring up the map of potential targets. "The only question that remains is how to handle the matter of our Seeker."

It was silent for a moment as he seemed to consider the situation and then he made a soft sound that Epps recognised as a sigh. "Ratchet reminded me of a human expression during a... previous situation we found ourselves in with regards to William. 'Damned if you do, and damned if you don't.'. To bring him with us would give Megatron and Starscream what they wish and make him a target. To let him remain here..."

"... Would drive him crazy," Epps finished quietly. "Will's not going to sit out a battle if he can fight, we both know that. Not if his people are out there in the line of fire. None of us would."

"All of NEST has shown commendable loyalty," Optimus Prime remarked. "I agree with the assessment. To let him remain here would be unwise at best and leave him open for Starscream's manipulations. Opposing factions or not, Starscream, as the Air Commander, still has a hold on him."

Another of those things that Epps really didn't want to think about but couldn't afford to ignore, either. "How bad?" he finally asked.

"We don't know." Prime's admission was quiet and serious and told Epps far more about how bad the situation was than he ever wanted to know. "Autobot Seekers all went through great pain to distance themselves from their Decepticon kin. Starscream had little, if any, influence left with them. William's responses to Starscream up until now have shown that he is more open to that influence than previous Autobot Seekers have been but how much is something I doubt even he is aware of. The dominant personality at the time would have quite a lot to say in regards to their response to him, I suspect." He paused for a moment. "If nothing else, he will at least be unable to raise a weapon against Ironhide with the intention to offline or injure now. Such is the nature of that kind of bond."

Epps wondered for a moment if that was why Will had done it – it had probably had at least _something_ to say about it – but he doubted that had been all there had been to it, and then he pushed those thoughts away before he could linger for too long on them. "Why him? He's a Seeker, sure, but he's-"

"-Just one mech?" Optimus finished quietly. "He is. It is a matter of principle for Megatron. He is a Seeker and as such he should be at Megatron's side in the war. He who commands the Seekers commands the skies. There are other Cybertronians that can fly but none as capable as the Seekers. To have even one Autobot Seeker free of his rule would be a potential weakness and a challenge he can not afford to leave alone. The few Seekers at our side were always targets, far more so than all but the most dangerous of the ground-bound mechs. That he listens to Starscream to even a small degree only offers further encouragement."

Not the sort of thing Epps wanted to hear, _really_ not the sort of thing he wanted to consider, but he didn't have much of a choice and so he just closed his eyes briefly, wearily before returning his attention to their Prime. All the bits of the puzzle were there. It was just a matter of completing the image he didn't want to acknowledge out loud.

"We're going to lose him." Not a question and not something the mech needed to respond to, either. "One way or another, we're going to lose him. Either he's going to try and run off and Ironhide will take him down, or the goddamn 'Cons are going to shoot him out of the sky when he tells them to go frag themselves."

Optimus Prime nodded slightly. "Yes."

_Fuck._

This time, Epps didn't try to resist that urge to rub his face tiredly and try to clear his thoughts a little but it didn't help, the same nasty words and images going through his mind over and over and over again. Maybe that was why his mouth got started before he could stop it or maybe it was just the all-together amazing combination of fatigue and sleep deprivation and paperwork, and oddly he found that he couldn't bring himself to care in the least.

"_Why?_" he demanded. "You're the Prime, you have the Matrix, you know... whatever the hell is out there, Primus or the Unmaker or whatever the hell you call it. _That thing_ brought Will back, with blue optics and Autobot insignias and the whole damn package, and it did it just so he could go right ahead and get himself killed again."

He was probably breaking half a dozen unwritten rules and likely just as many written ones but right now he didn't care – it was Optimus, he respected Optimus, would go right up and kick open the gates of Hell at Optimus' side if that was what it came to, but it didn't change the fact that right now Epps was tired and angry and confused and Optimus Prime was a convenient target.

Judging by their Prime's calm, measured reaction, he probably knew it, too.

"I would like to think there is a reason," he said, and while the voice was calm it also left no doubts at all that that was about as far as he was willing to tolerate their human commander's remarks, and Epps knew that, too. He forced himself to calm down again and nod briefly in a silent half-acknowledgement, half-apology, and Optimus waited for another few seconds before he continued. "I would like to think there is a reason but we may never know it. I have wondered, too."

And come to think of it, he probably had. Surprisingly, that thought helped a little, and Epps let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"So now what?"

Another pause and if it had been Ratchet instead of Optimus Prime, Epps was sure he would have felt that tell-tale feeling of a scan sweeping over him. As it was, Optimus knew him too well to really need it.

"Now, you rest. We need you clear-headed, commander, and you are far from it." Gentle amusement, a verbal tap on the shoulder of a particularly stubborn subordinate, and Epps just offered a tired smile.

"I'd argue but I know I look like crap." For a moment he almost did argue, anyway, because there were things to be done, people to meet, reports to write, politicians to glare at, but in the end he didn't bother. Optimus Prime could have made it an order but respect meant that he hadn't. It had been a suggestion, from one concerned comrade-in-arms to another, and it helped soothe the part of Epps that was still worrying itself into an early grave at the thought of being top dog of NEST. "Thank you, sir."

Optimus Prime nodded slightly, regally, and then Epps made his way out of the office, already mentally halfway in bed. He _did_ have things to do, way too many, but it didn't really matter now. They had a war to fight and a battle approaching and he would be of no use to anyone right now.

He should find his own quarters, do it the proper way, but his feet moved of their own accord and he found himself in a familiar Autobot hangar, empty of any inhabitants but with a familiar couch in one human-sized corner. Old, worn, _comfy,_ and Ratchet had left standing orders that waking up their napping new human commander when he finally did sleep was grounds for a massive chewing out to make even Sideswipe pay attention.

He should find his own quarters, his own bed, but the hangar was familiar and empty and _safe_, and he could always go find his bed later. Rest. Rest was _good._

Decision made, Epps flopped down on the couch.

He would wake up again ten hours later, properly rested for the first time in weeks and somewhat ready to face the world again, but for now Robert Epps slept.


	39. Chapter 34

It was not yet sunrise when the first of what would be a series of alerts was issued on Diego Garcia. To be painfully honest, it wasn't something Ironhide could bring himself to care about much. He would have slagged any rookie who had dared to say the same but Ironhide liked to think that age and experience came with some advantages, and knowing when not to get worked up about a low-level alert was one of them.

He hadn't been into deep recharge when it had sounded and so it hadn't taken much more than a few seconds to bring himself up to speed on the situation – one of the outermost perimeter warnings, three objects approaching in close formation, one thousand miles away and heading directly for the NEST base at close to Mach three.

The Command Trine, of course - he knew as much from experience before that bit of information was officially confirmed - and the fraggers being what they were, it could mean any one of a number of things. The 'Cons knew where their outer perimeter was and if it ended up being nothing more than a brief excursion into enemy air space to trigger an alert or two and drag people out of recharge for harassment's sake, then it wouldn't be the first time.

The fact that they kept up that speed and direction indicated that it might be something else, though - or a very determined attempt at being even more of a pest than usual - and so Ironhide bit back some choice comments about Seekers and resigned himself to a morning spent watching out for the pest of a trine and hoping that at least one of them would make enough of a miscalculation to get within range of their air defences. He doubted it would ever happen, of course - Starscream would not have survived for as long as he had if he wasn't good at what he did, and neither would his trine-mates if they hadn't been able to keep up - but still, the hope was there.

He was up and moving in the command centre by the time the Command Trine hit the five-hundred-mile perimeter and the alert went up a level, but by then everyone important was already aware of the situation. Optimus still treated every one of those alerts with the seriousness that they admittedly deserved and had developed the ability to come out of deep recharge both coherent and functioning long before Ironhide had ever met him for the first time. Arcee had been in charge of what the humans called the 'graveyard shift' and Ratchet, like Ironhide, had long since stopped going into deep recharge unless the situation warranted it. Ironhide was too used to being on the frontlines to be comfortable with deep recharge anymore and Ratchet, he knew, had become used to being brought out of recharge for the simple reason that emergencies couldn't wait until it was more convenient for the medics and hospitals involved. It had been a long time since it had been an issue, a long time since there had been enough Cybertronians left to need more than a few medics, much less multiple hospitals worth of them, but old habits died hard and so did those random bits of programming that your processors would create out of pure necessity.

Their new Seeker was still in recharge but then, Ironhide would have been surprised if he hadn't been. It took a while to adapt to a spark-merge, especially when it happened for the first time. Ironhide had experience and enough survival instincts to keep from letting it show. Will with his lack of experience had no such luck and would be stuck with dealing with it in the traditional ways – time and recharge. Not being given that chance to deal with it would be a pain for everyone involved and experience had taught Ironhide that, too... him, and undoubtedly Ratchet as well, and if their medic hadn't taken steps to ensure Will a proper recharge, then Ironhide would have to wonder about said medic's mental state.

_I used medical overrides on the lower-level alerts. He will be brought out of it if they trigger the three-hundred-mile perimeter warning_, Ratchet confirmed through their bond. _I'm touched by your confidence. I suppose your hours spent in the infirmary haven't been a complete waste_.

Ironhide hadn't even been aware that he had transmitted that to anyone and he bit back a sigh as he strengthened those shields around their bond again.

_Rattled processors, spark still settling, I know. I'll keep it in mind,_ he finally said in a half-apology. It did take a while to adapt to a spark-merge, even as old and experienced as he was... even if he had preferred to forget that.

His sensors flared before Ratchet could answer and drew both of their attentions to the entrance of the hangar, knowing perfectly well what they would see.

The command centre always had an air of barely-contained chaos about it, even when they weren't keeping an eye on hostile forces on an intercept course, but it still settled down between one second and the next at the familiar sound of Optimus Prime's approach. The cacophony died completely for a moment and when the silence was broken again, it was with the low sound of voices and a far more orderly feel to the constant hum of background noise.

A Prime-thing or a leader-thing, Ironhide wasn't sure. He hadn't been able to replicate the effect without raising his voice, at least. The same thing, perhaps, that let them all be aware of his presence in the way that they never were with any other mechs they weren't bonded with. The same thing that could make even Decepticons back down at the sound of his voice if he willed it.

Optimus Prime, unaware of those particular thoughts, took stock of the situation with a glance and then focused on Arcee.

"Status?"

"They changed their course marginally nine hundred miles out but their speed remains steady," Arcee responded. "We currently estimate that their closest approach will put them just outside the range of our air defences in fourteen Earth minutes. With the estimated point of near-contact as well as their speed and consistent approach, we doubt it's just another hit-and-run harassment from them, sir. They want something."

In any other situation, Ironhide would have prepared for an attack but in this case he still had his doubts and he wasn't surprised to hear his Prime echo those thoughts out loud.

"A statement, perhaps," Optimus mused. "They know our air defences and they came out second-best the last time they challenged them. Whatever else Starscream might be, stupid or willing to put himself into harm's way for little gain was never on the list. Ratchet?"

He didn't need to elaborate. Ironhide had no doubts about the nature of the question and neither, apparently, did Ratchet, because while a brief pause followed, it felt like hesitation more than confusion to Ironhide.

"It may be a test," Ratchet said. "Their course will put them outside range of our air defences but it might be close enough to make Starscream's connection with Will react. He is their Air Commander."

"Can it be broken?"

"He's too young and they may not consent to it, Optimus. It's a fairly invasive procedure and not without side-effects. Most Autobot Seekers had it done. You knew most of them well. Some barely noticed. Some had... permanent changes."

Ratchet didn't offer any details but their Prime seemed to know what he was referring to as he frowned. Ironhide didn't ask. It wasn't relevant for the moment and if it ever turned out to be, he would ask then instead. It wasn't like he had paid that much attention to the Autobot Seekers to begin with. They had been interesting to look at, as all Seekers were, attractive for their build and abilities, but for the most part not beings he had wanted to spend any more time around than he had to. They might have been Autobot by choice but that didn't mean they had lost any of the arrogance and superior attitude that was so common with the 'Cons and which had always made Ironhide itch to put a hole through their spark when he had been unfortunate enough to have to listen to them.

The three-hundred-mile alert interrupted them, along with the feeling of dawning, reluctant awareness from Will that Ironhide felt through their new, spark-merged bond. He offered a brief update in return before he focused on his surroundings again, late enough to miss the first part of his Prime's decision but familiar enough with him to know the order by spark, anyway.

"-is doubtful this is a genuine attack but we should nonetheless be prepared for every eventuality."

The order was passed on through the proper channels and Ironhide was familiar enough with that kind of situation to know that it would only be a matter of minutes before his own comm-frequencies that connected him with their human troops would flare to life as well. In the unlikely event that it was an attack, air defences would be their main defence and there would be very little for ground-based troops to do but still, it was the principle of it. Megatron was no fool and very capable of thinking up devastating, new attacks, painful experience had taught them that. If nothing else, those alerts kept the base on their toes – not that they truly needed it much, in a war like the one they were currently fighting.

Unlike Will, Ironhide had enough experience and focus to use the strange sort of two-layer perception that came with a spark-merge and he had no qualms about using it now to follow his partner as he came out of recharge and his processors were brought up to proper speed again. The former human did seem to handle everything far better after the conversation with his mate-wife that Ironhide had carefully blocked to offer them at least that bit of privacy but still, Ironhide wasn't about to risk anything. Not with Starscream out there, clearly hunting for something.

The two-hundred-mile alert was triggered at roughly the same time as the NEST team's comm-frequencies started to get active and the low hum of activity in the command centre grew increasingly loud and chaotic again, and not long after Ironhide felt Will move out of his own quarters and towards the main hangar – not entirely back to normal again but coping in his own way, and Ironhide could deal with that. The mercurial moods would take time to get used to but he didn't doubt he would have plenty of future experience to assist him with that. For all that their new Seeker had calmed down, he was still nowhere near level-headed again.

The same two-hundred-mile alert was triggered amidst a growing sound of activity and was followed shortly after by two very clear displays of Starscream's influence that all of them could have done without.

A later examination of the readings would reveal that the Command Trine was one hundred and ninety-four miles from Diego Garcia when Ironhide felt Will freeze in the kind of barely-restrained panic that was becoming uncomfortably familiar to all of them... and that said trine was only three miles closer when a flicker of something from the bond with Ratchet was all the warning that Ironhide got before the medic abruptly blocked it and every bit of his body language told beyond shadow of doubt that something was very, very wrong.

By then Ironhide was already moving to intercept Will before he could do anything stupid, a wall of blind, barely-restrained panic overruling anything else Ironhide might have been able to pick up from the bond - as if Ironhide needed any further reminders of how much _easier_ things had been with just Lennox there and not the Seeker and all its issues along for the ride - but before he or Arcee had time to deal with whatever had happened to Ratchet, their Prime took charge with nothing more than a glance at them.

Optimus' calm "Ratchet?" was the last thing Ironhide heard from that quarter before he stepped back outside and spotted Will instantly, no help from the still-panicked bond needed. Tense body, wings lowered, attention focused on the sky in the direction that Ironhide knew was where Starscream and the rest of the fraggers were approaching from... not good. Not good at all.

He took a moment to decide on a course of action, then swiftly crossed the space between them while letting nothing but feelings of calm support and rock-solid stability show through his own shields. Now was not the time for anger, however much of a pest the 'Con fraggers might be.

One hand on a tense arm, hoping to the Pit and back that any startled reaction would be harmless enough that he could deal with it without causing either of them serious harm, and his own tension lessened slightly when the offending hand wasn't simply torn off in response.

_Will?_

No verbal response to that but the wings shifted slight, just that bit upwards to give Ironhide hope that some part of him was listening, and then he tried again.

_**Lennox.**_

Less careful this time, more the way he would speak to a fellow soldier, and that apparently did the trick as Will's optics shuttered briefly and the body beneath Ironhide's hand shuddered visibly. Some of that raw panic was still lingering but it was somewhat leashed now, at least, and kept under control by sheer stubbornness and the new focus point Ironhide had offered in appearing next to him.

"'Hide." Part question, part hopeful whisper, part instinctive acknowledgement that made Ironhide wonder if Will was aware of his presence at all, and there was something he was missing, he knew that beyond any doubt. Will didn't have much in the way of mental shields when it came to normal bonds, much less a spark-merged one, but he'd still applied every bit of control that he could to keeping Ironhide out of parts of his mind and that was bad sign any way you looked at it. That wasn't the sort of mental breakdown that Ironhide had admittedly known had been an unlikely but still possible result of their merge. It was a deliberate if panicked attempt to keep Ironhide out... or something in.

It took him less than a second to make the decision and settle for acting first and apologising later, and the only warning he got was a sudden flare of panic from Will as he pushed against those shields-

- And then they crumbled and vanished, dismissed by something distinctively _not_ Will, and all Ironhide had time for was a brief, wordless curse before he found himself entangled in the alien feel of a presence that was no longer just his partner.

He was clear-headed enough to know that the _fear-panic-submission-defiance_ he felt came from his partner, not himself, but that didn't stop it from affecting him, anyway, as the alien feel shifted and Ironhide found himself the focus of Starscream's very unwanted attention.

_Ironhide._

The voice was at once both smug and vaguely disgusted, like he was some unpleasant bit of slag stuck on a favourite weapon, and it didn't escape Ironhide's attention that it would be one of the only times he had ever actually talked to the fragger, much less had him call him by his actual name. The voice made him itch to put the 'Con out of his misery of an existence but he knew perfectly well that it wasn't an option. Starscream was far out of range and trying anything through... whatever was going on between the fragger and Will was more likely to hurt Will than the 'Con.

Will, he realised... and Ratchet.

Frag it all to the _Pit._

_Clever deduction. You may be more than just a trained weapon after all, Autobot, _Starscream mocked quietly through their bond and Ironhide realised too well that the fragger had picked up on at least part of those thoughts. _I am the Air Commander. I hold dominion of all that is Seeker-kin. Will rightfully belongs to me. Your medic still carries Seeker programming and Seeker bonds, for all that he has denounced his proper loyalties and serves the Prime. And you, Autobot... you bonded with the medic and spark-merged with my youngling. You are no less Seeker-kin now than the Hatchet is. Will could have chosen better but perhaps you may not be completely worthless._

Something flared over their connection, demanding submission with enough strength to make Ironhide snarl in response, and Starscream held it for an endless moment before it vanished again and the parting flare of _mine-strength-protection-affection-__**obey**_ from the fragger merged with the harsher sound of the one-hundred-mile perimeter warning and then faded completely.

Ironhide brought up the images from the command centre, watched three glowing, purple markers move in perfect formation as they skimmed by just outside of any air defences that might target them – one _fragging_ mistake was all Ironhide asked from them, and was that really too much to demand – and then the small number in one corner that marked the distance finally stopped its descent and picked back up again as they passed outside of the one-hundred-mile line once more.

Starscream was there again at the edge of his awareness, like some annoying parasite that refused to fragging _die_ but Ironhide forced himself to ignore the presence and the mess of unwanted emotions that came with it to focus solely on Will instead. He'd slammed every mental wall back up that he could at the realisation that Starscream had at least partial access to him and he desperately hoped that it would be enough and that Will had managed the same. Nothing the fragger had said gave any indication that he knew Will was less than a perfectly normal, young Seeker but that didn't mean Ironhide was about to relax. He was in no hurry to find out how Starscream would react to learning that he had been trying to woo away a former human, of all things. Ratchet might go on about the importance of kin and mates but Ironhide wasn't going to believe for a moment that sort of thing would extend to organics as well.

"Will?" His grip tightened slightly on Will's arm and the blue optics seemed to regain a bit of focus even if the pressure from Starscream and the Seeker half's barely-restrained panic remained.

The physical world for the human half and the bonds for the Seeker, Ironhide realised a moment later. Will was a bit out of it but might still be able to be of some use. If nothing else, then to help ground that Seeker bit of his.

"It's about power," Will said – coherent, at least, but clearly still halfway gone in whatever little world he had been wandering around in. "Ratchet's... not going to be happy but he's fine. Can't do anything physically to us. It's just a reminder. I'm a Seeker. You're mine and I'm his. That's the way he sees it, anyway."

A lot more human than Seeker in those words – purely human, in fact, if Ironhide didn't know any better, and a lot closer to the Will he used to know than anything else he had seen since the whole mess started. He felt a flicker of regret at the thought and then pushed it aside to offer a snort that sounded far more confident than he felt.

"In that case, he's got more than a few bolts loose."

Dazed silence greeted those words and this time Ironhide was less gentle when he tightened his grip. _"Focus! _Snap out of it, Will. Focus on my voice and ignore the glitch. You're a Seeker; being annoying pests and ignoring people is what your kind do best."

The echo of amusement from Starscream-

_- Is that any way to speak to your **bonded**, ground-pounder?-_

- and then Ironhide felt the wall of panic through their bond begin to retreat, bit by little bit to leave both his and Will's processors a lot clearer. Theirs, and possibly Ratchet's as well.

On a whim, he focused on a familiar comm-frequency.

"Arcee?"

He didn't need to clarify. Arcee knew perfectly well what he was referring to and responded accordingly.

"Ratchet appears to have snapped out of it again. Optimus spoke with him. I'm not sure of what, but it appears to have worked. Will?"

_Suffering from multiple personalities and a bad case of Starscream_ probably wouldn't go over well as an explanation so Ironhide settled for a more neutral response.

"Improving. I will contact you when it's under control."

He'd barely cut the connection before the tension slowly left Will's body and he finally turned his head to actually look at Ironhide. "He's leaving."

"One hundred and fifty miles out," Ironhide agreed. Another fifty before they'd pass the point where they had first targeted Will and Ratchet but he wasn't about to bring that up at the moment.

Will nodded slightly. "'n my head, too," he added. "He made his point."

He didn't offer any explanation as to what point that might be and Ironhide didn't ask. There would be time for that later and right now, keeping their Seeker and their medic sane and stable had priority. Debriefings could wait, as well as questions that Ironhide wasn't sure he actually wanted to hear the answers to.

There was still some tension left in Will's body and the wings still spoke of guarded caution but nothing that wasn't expected – Ironhide still felt like shooting something into tiny, little smoking pieces of debris, and he could only imagine how Will felt after getting the full force of that attention shoved on him and with his Seeker half frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming Decepticon.

Whispers of something across their bond – _fly-claim-kin-free-__**home**_, and the feeling of being torn between the defiance of the human side and the instinctive desire to submit and beg forgiveness that the Seeker side had felt – but Ironhide ignored that, too. He knew Will enough to know that if he wanted to talk about it, he would do it at his own pace... and possibly with Ratchet, who knew a lot more about that sort of issue than Ironhide did.

"'Hide?" Still a bit of the confusion there as Will looked to him for orders and for once, Ironhide didn't immediately know what to do.

His first instinct had been to order him off to the infirmary but those words died before he could voice them. Where _did_ you take someone after that sort of thing when their only real medic had been affected as well? Personal quarters, hangars, recharge, command centre...

The first three options had privacy. The last had company, human and Autobot, and maybe that was exactly what Will needed now. He might be a little out of it and probably wouldn't be in the best of moods when it had all had time to settle in, but that wasn't really the point. Company was good and whatever else he might be, Seeker and everything, he had behaved exceptionally well around his NEST team. He was rattled now but if Ironhide had to be perfectly, painfully honest with himself, the Twins and Sideswipe on their bad days were little better. He was a Seeker but he was also an ally, and Ironhide fragging well intended to treat him as such.

Decision made, Arcee's comm-frequency responded instantly at his contact.

"Lennox is stable. Ratchet?"

Ironhide didn't bother with niceties and to her credit, neither did Arcee when she responded.

"Unsettled but unharmed. He refused to take his own usual advice and see himself to the infirmary. He will stay in the command centre for a while still; at the very least until Starscream and his trine are out of range."

Ironhide nodded briefly even if only Will was around to see it; a human gesture he had eventually adapted from their allies and not minded.

"I'll bring Lennox in for company."

The Command Trine was two hundred miles out and counting and Ironhide released the last of his tension. They could still turn around, still find ways to make a pest of themselves, but for now it was... if not calm, then as least less chaotic than before.

Lennox didn't resist and didn't ask when Ironhide's grip on him loosened slightly but remained where it was, and he followed silently as Ironhide led them to the hangar where Optimus and Ratchet and Arcee waited as well.

The human Will would have rolled his eyes and told him to go find Sideswipe if he wanted to hold hands. The Seeker would... probably have tried to 'face with him or beat him up for laying hands on an obviously superior bird-brain.

Neither of them would have had confused and vaguely subdued silence as their instinctive response and right now, that part worried Ironhide far more than whatever bond Starscream had with his bondmates did.


	40. Chapter 35

William Lennox had an impressive list of grievances about his current situation on a mental list that never went far from the forefront of his processors. On his snarkier days, said list was a source of endless, biting comments – to himself or whomever happened to be around – but on his more level-headed days, saner thoughts prevailed and he honestly tried to find answers instead. Rarely successfully – mainly because a lot of the explanations he got went over his head, despite the best of Ratchet and the Seeker's efforts – but at least he tried.

Right now, William Lennox found himself desperately wishing he had tried just a bit harder to make those mostly-alien explanations make sense. Maggie with her tech-brain and everything or Sam with whatever left-over Allspark was still in the kid's head might have made sense of it – probably _could_ have made sense of it, because Will didn't honestly think it was that complicated if you understood that unique way of explaining things they had – but Will wasn't Sam or Maggie, and Will's university degree had not been in alien geek-talk or top ten ways to please a Seeker, and for all that he had honestly tried and the Seeker had done its best to explain it, too, his understanding of a lot of it was superficial at best.

Granted, some days he suspected that the same was true for Ironhide (and even Ratchet on one or two occasions, even if that was not a thought he wanted to linger on) but that didn't change the fact that Will was well on his way up slag-creek with neither paddle nor boat.

Looking at Ratchet as they stepped inside the command centre, he didn't seem to be alone in that situation. The medic had blocked any sort of connection they had which kept Will from taking his cues from that corner, but his body-language spoke quite clearly on its own. Another habit they had picked up from their human allies, since that body language hadn't been nearly as pronounced when they had first met, but it was another one that Will was grateful for. Him and the rest of NEST. It really did make life a lot easier when you had at least some basic idea of what mood the giant, armed, alien robots were in.

And he was babbling to himself, Will realised, and couldn't even blame himself for it. Not babbling meant pausing to actually think, not babbling meant paying actual attention to all the emotions from the Seeker that he had so desperately tried to block out, and the longer he could keep that from happening, the better.

_Welcome to the State of Denial, population: you._

Talking to himself wasn't exactly an overwhelming support of his mental stability but as far as Will was concerned, his lack of common sense, sanity, and anything else that might possibly be associated with desirable qualities in a commanding officer had become abundantly clear when he had actually agreed to lead NEST. And it had been a genuine offer, too, not just an order, and Will understood that reasoning just fine, then as well as now. You didn't want someone with NEST who wasn't there of their own, free will. You didn't want someone who had the least bit of doubt in the whole operation because Primus and anyone else who might be watching knew fragging well that they got plenty of chances to doubt the sanity of it all when they engaged in combat with the 'Cons. A little mental flexibility was a good thing and Will knew perfectly well that he had more than just a little of that. He also knew just as well that this fact was made abundantly clear in the several evaluations he had been put through before he had been given that offer and they had given him the job, anyway.

Whether that said more about his state of mind or theirs, Will wasn't sure, but he figured it gave him at least a bit of leeway when it came to possessing a somewhat flexible view of the world.

Ironhide had undoubtedly been treated to the whole mental rant thanks to Will's utter lack of ability to block him under anything but the most optimal conditions but his only response was to shift his grip on Will's arm slightly in a small, reassuring gesture, and Will felt himself relax before he was even aware of it.

Ironhide still didn't let go completely and even if Will was never, ever going to admit it out loud, he was grateful for that, too. It would have annoyed him as a human, the feeling that he was some wayward brat to keep an eye on before he did anything impossibly stupid, but now the gesture was reassuring more than anything. Maybe it was their spark-merge, maybe it was the bond, maybe it was just because he was a Seeker and they had issues, but his spark craved the proximity with a strength that was more than a bit unsettling. It wasn't that much of a problem when they were outside physical range of each other although still within easy reach, but physical touch just seemed to remind every little bit of his processors and every sensor node in his body just how right it was and how unnatural it would feel to be separated from that contact again.

That said, Ironhide looked about as lost as Will felt. He had dragged him off to the hangar with all the commanding presence of the mech he was but it seemed that had been the extent of his planning. He was watching the ordered chaos around them with the same hesitance as Will felt and only when Optimus Prime's optics locked on them from where he was standing near Ratchet did Ironhide react and half led, half dragged Will across the hangar floor towards them.

Blue optics glanced at Will in a silent question, from their Prime and Ironhide both, and Will was rather proud that there was barely any hesitance in his responding nod.

_Go,_ he offered silently and meant it. _I'll be fine._

Ironhide didn't look entirely convinced and levelled a long look first at Will, then at Ratchet, and then he nodded briefly and let go, the brush of dark fingers against his wing a silent, almost imperceptible nudge towards the medic.

_Keep the nutballs together?_ Will suggested through their bond, only partially joking.

_Keep both of you stable, hopefully,_ Ironhide sent back. _I caught the echoes of it, Lennox, but I'm not a bird-brain. I don't get it like you and Ratchet do. None of us do and frankly, right now you feel more stable than Ratchet does._

Looking at the medic, Will could have made a comment about how that was really not saying much but he kept his mouth shut, both the physical and mental one, and just nodded instead and followed without further argument as Ironhide nudged him again. The sudden loss of a physical connection was more unpleasant than Will would have expected but he could deal with that. With everything else that had happened, keeping a teenage bird-brain demanding nookie happy and sated was pretty far down on the to-do list.

The barely-suppressed emotions from the Seeker were still there and while it probably wasn't the time or place for it, Will doubted that _any_ time or place would be right. Here and now, at least, he'd have Ratchet to whack him on the head if he did something stupid, unstable medic or not. The Seeker respected him and Primus knew Will did, too.

He knew it would be a flood of impressions the moment he let go, so he tried to adjust it a little and only loosen the reins just enough to let the first suppressed emotions through.

_Fear_ at first, bone-deep and terrifying, but Will knew that was more himself than the bird-brain and the Seeker added its silent agreement now that it was finally able to again. The Air Commander could be as terrifying and imposing as a vengeful god but the Seeker-part knew just as well that as long as Starscream still considered them his youngling, that wouldn't be a genuine concern. He could get angry, most definitely, but never to a degree where it would warrant that level of abject fear. That would come much later and would be followed by words like 'traitor' and 'Autoscum'.

_Respect_ followed, _respect-awe-submission_, and even if Will never, ever wanted to admit it, he could understand that. The fragger might be a 'Con and a killer and a pain in the aft, but he was damn skilled, damn powerful, and damn good at what he did and Will could respect that. They'd been up against the 'Cons often enough to know what the things were capable of. He did his best to ignore the echo of _awe-submission_ – it wasn't something he wanted to know, _really_ wasn't something he wanted to think about, much less deal with, and it could damn well wait for now. It would have to.

_Lust_ came after that, just as bone-deep and just as terrifying to Will as _fear_ had been because this wasn't 'Hide or Ratchet or even Optimus – it was Starscream and the Seeker half left no doubt at all that whatever Will's issues with the 'Con might be, and however much they might claim Autobot loyalties, that raw lust would always remain, the bits of his coding that told him that a sparkling fathered by the Air Commander would be fast, clever, ruthless, and _perfect._ Everything a Seeker should be, strong and fierce and proud and a testament to the talents of its creators in sparking and raising it.

The way Ratchet's optics focused on him in a narrow-eyed look told Will beyond any doubt that it wasn't just Ironhide that got the fun of sharing every random Starscream-related thought that went through his vain, little head, but there was something more in the expression that Ratchet gave him.

Understanding, Will realised a moment later; Ratchet _understood_ and for all that Will needed Ironhide's unwavering support, he needed that understanding just as much. No judgement of emotions or images or fantasies dug up by the Seeker at the sound of Starscream's voice, just silent understanding and the knowledge that whatever Will was going through, Ratchet had probably felt more than a bit of that same effect on his own body as well.

_You left them,_ Will finally said, more a statement than a question and carefully shielded from Ironhide because the mech did not need to know and there were things that even Will wasn't going to admit out loud.

Ratchet's optics dimmed slightly and a whisper of _tiredness-worry-regret_ followed through their bond, on purpose or simply too much to keep in.

_I did._

Lots of things Will could have said to that but in the end he settled for the only question that really mattered in the sort of situation he was in.

_How?_

The medic glanced at the rest of the room, revealed Ironhide deep in conversation with their Prime and Arcee even if he did send Will and Ratchet an occasional look to ensure they were still in one piece, and then his frame slumped slightly as if the last bit of strength had just left him.

_Youthful stupidity? Fear? Survival instincts?_ the medic offered tiredly. _I was never what the 'Cons looked for in a medic. I doubt I could have adapted very well, either. Their breed was kin but by then it was obvious what side they would join with. I missed them, didn't stop for a long time, but at least I was still online to do so. They were kin, yes, but when faced with the choice of treason and abandonment or eventual offlining... then, as now, I was in very little hurry to rejoin the Matrix. Which, admittedly, is not an explanation that will help much in your situation..._ a pause as Ratchet hesitated. ..._ and admittedly, I was never exposed to the full strength of Starscream's influence in my time there, either. _

_Never been exposed to the full force of Starscream's ego before_, Will's mind translated, which meant that they were both groping around in the dark and had pretty much frag-all in the way of something to fight back with. He had wondered more than once about Ratchet's statement that he would be unable to shoot the fragger, had wondered more than once if it hadn't been an exaggeration or a statement made without taking the human side into account but looking back, even the happy State of Denial was not enough to hide the fact that if anything, Ratchet's verdict had been conservative.

Some of those thoughts must have leaked through as well, to both of the mechs he had bonded with, because Ironhide gave him a sharp look and Ratchet just looked... resigned. Tired, resigned, and every day of his Primus knew how many years of existence.

"It felt stronger than it used to be," the medic finally said out loud, enough to draw the attention from the people surrounding them and make their Prime aim a serious look at him.

"Ratchet?" Something about the medic's expression was enough to draw Prime back at their side, Ironhide and Arcee following close behind and frag it all, but his Seeker part should not be so disgusting _happy_ just to have its spark-merge mate close again.

Then Ironhide touched his arm and his world narrowed down to nothing but the feel of metal on metal, scarred fingers against the smooth perfection of his own armour as his Seeker desperately clung to the one thing in its world that made _sense_ and Will couldn't even blame it. Starscream had been bad enough when they could mouth off to him. With the realisation that physical proximity was the only thing needed for said Air Commander to simply overwhelm them and take control of them by sheer force was... unpleasant in the least, and both of them knew damn well that only Ironhide's presence and the combined stubbornness of both the human and the Seeker had kept them on the ground.

That was one thing he didn't think Starscream had been able to pick out of his processors, at least. It wasn't much of an advantage but still, that bit of humanity still counted, especially when Starscream didn't know it was there.

And then Ratchet was talking again and Will bit back a curse at the tunnel-vision that was apparently so very _normal_ for a Seeker.

"I don't know if it's a matter of warped perception or the fact that I've never been the focus of his attention to that degree before, but it felt stronger than it used to be. I would say that I have never seen a Seeker react as strongly before as Will did but that could as easily be a result of never having been exposed to that presence before or Starscream making more of an effort than he might normally would have." A glance at Will, genuinely apology in his features before he continued. "A combination of both, most likely, but we can't rule out the possibility of Starscream being stronger than he once was."

_Oh, lucky us._

Judging by Ironhide's snort, he picked up on that as well.

"So we take out the fragger before he gets the chance to try again. What was his range? Two hundred miles?"

"One hundred and ninety-seven," Arcee confirmed. "But it may be further. He may have deliberately waited until he was closer than he needed to be."

And didn't things just keep getting better? Will resisted the urge to groan, felt the Seeker stir in unease as well, and at least they were still working together. That was always something. He wasn't sure he could have handled a hostile Seeker half again and he never, ever wanted to find out. It had come close enough once. If he never felt that feeling of helplessness again, it would still be too soon.

"So that was why he showed up? To harass us?" Not that Will would be surprised if that was the sole reason. Seekers were pests and Starscream was the king of them, in every way that counted.

"Not solely for harassments sake but I have little doubt it was part of his reason." Optimus Prime, joining the conversation proper for the first time. "He has done it often enough before, when we still had Autobot Seekers among us in the past. In this case, however, he had a message to offer as well."

_A message._

Anything Will could think of that Starscream would find important enough to deliver like that would be bad, bad news, and his optics shuttered once before he asked the question he knew there was no way around.

"Message?"

"Coordinates," their Prime responded evenly. "The time and location of their intended attack. The time frame is... generous. We would arrive with time to spare."

"A trap," Will said and ignored the whispered correction of '_an offer'_ from his Seeker half. A trap for the 'Bots, an offer for... him. It. Them. Come fly, claim your freedom, be with your proper kin-

"Undoubtedly," Optimus Prime agreed with the calmness that never seemed to waver. "Sometimes, unfortunately, the best course of action is to spring the trap."

_Which leaves only the question of..._ a glance at Ratchet revealed that the medic clearly had the same thought as Will did and that he had probably reached the same conclusions.

"Jolt's training has progressed to an... acceptable level," Ratchet finally said and his voice sounded a lot more calm than Will suspected he was. "He is not a fully trained medic yet, but he has been trained to an acceptable level in combat-specific injuries."

Translation – Jolt was okay at the basic stuff but anything uncommon or too nasty and they'd be screwed and Ratchet knew it, too, and Will couldn't imagine what it must have cost a medic to make an offer like that.

"The offer is noted," Optimus Prime said almost gently and probably knew what was going through Ratchet's processors even better than the medic himself did. "If you deem it the best course of action to remain here, then I will not question it, but do not do it in the misguided belief that we have lost faith in you."

_We know you, we trust you, we've seen you at your worst and we're still here,_ but _damn it,_ it was different when other people's lives depended on you, and maybe it was his bond with Ratchet that gave the insights, maybe it was experience, maybe it was something he had picked up from Ironhide's long period of exposure to said medic, but in the end it didn't matter as much as the simple fact that he understood. Ratchet had offered understanding. The least Will could do was offer the same in return.

Ratchet was a lot more tactile than the rest of the 'Bots, that was one of the things that had made the human part of Will attracted to him, and he only hesitated for a moment before he carefully put a clawed hand on Ratchet's arm in a silent echo of Ironhide's gesture of support.

Familiar blue optics narrowed on him in a silent question that Will didn't need their bond to figure out and he tightened his grip slightly in what he hoped was a supportive gesture.

_You stay, I stay._

A glance at the dark mech at Will's side, then back at the Seeker-human in a gesture that told perfectly well that Ratchet had some serious doubts about his sanity and Will couldn't blame him. He needed Ironhide to stay grounded; he knew it, Ratchet knew it, 'Hide knew it – hell, they all probably did – and right now, it didn't matter as much as the fact that he wasn't leaving Ratchet to deal with it alone. Starscream would probably follow Will himself rather than Ratchet but that didn't rule out the risk that one of the other flying fraggers might go after Ratchet instead... or that Starscream decided that Will was far enough under his influence to spare going after a stray medic, too. Pros and cons to every option they had but maybe they stood some chance of telling Starscream to go frag himself together. Better odds, at least, than doing it alone. It wasn't like Ratchet could fly off the same way Will could but that didn't rule out messing around with his processors so much, it didn't matter anymore.

Besides, it was war and they needed an experienced medic around. Ratchet, Will knew, could no more stay behind than Will could have if there was any chance that his presence could save the life of a comrade-in-arms. Regrets could kill a man just as well as a weapon could and Ratchet knew that, too.

The Seeker murmured in the back of his mind, soundless whispers of _support-faith-loyalty_ that carried through to both Ratchet and Ironhide as well as they were intended to, and then Ratchet finally nodded – faint, almost imperceptible, but a nod nonetheless.

"We will be a liability, Optimus. Both of us," the medic said. "If you can accept that, then my place has always been with you."

There was more to the words than just reassurances, the Seeker programming made that very clear to Will – almost an oath of fealty and possibly enough to at least slow Starscream's influence down a little when they met again – but the thought of echoing those words himself was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. It was different for a true Seeker, different for Will and the Seeker both. Mere words were for ground-pounders, not for the true children of Primus.

"William?" Optimus' voice – and that Pit-spawned tunnel-vision again – and Will nodded once.

"Where 'Hide goes, I go." _Because I need him, because I trust him, because he keeps me grounded,_ but he didn't say that and didn't need to, either, because their Prime obviously understood.

"Then we prepare. Arcee, bring Commander Epps up to speed with the situation." He paused just long enough to look at Will and Ratchet, reassurance and unwavering confidence in them both in his optics, and then he nodded. "We depart in one hour. Autobots, roll out."


	41. Chapter 36

The first time Will had seen a C-17, he had been amazed it could fly. He had the personal theory that it worked on the same principle as a bumblebee did – that the only reason it could take off at all was because no one had told the pilots that it was technically impossible. Primus-knew-how-many-flights later and he still wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't all just one giant joke that science had played on them.

That theory only became all the more insistent in his mind whenever he watched their alien allies – which he was technically one of as well now, even if he still wasn't used to the thought – settle into the planes for the flight to wherever the frag the 'Cons had decided to go on a rampage at the given occasion. Logically he knew that something that could carry an M1 Abrams tank would have absolutely no problem with the puny weight offered by something like Ironhide or Ratchet or even Optimus Prime in comparison but somehow the 'Bots just took up a lot more room visually speaking. That, and he still wasn't sure the whole idea had been a good one to begin with. He understood the logic of using an isolated, restricted island for the NEST base and really did appreciate that he had to deal with far fewer 'got spotted by a civilian' incidents than he would have had to otherwise but that didn't stop him from feeling like a sitting duck whenever they took off.

It was an air plane, Primus knew how many thousand feet up, in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and their enemy had Seekers. He knew how many precautions they'd taken, he knew the sort of security those planes had, he _knew_ that the 'Con Seekers stayed away for good reasons but that didn't keep his brain from still feeling like a sitting duck. Might as well paint a bullseye on the slagging things, too, and give the 'Cons a laugh while they were at it.

The fact that he was now a Seeker did absolutely nothing to help on his view of it. If anything, the fact that something that big and clumsy and slow and _defenceless_ carried his mates made him want to twitch. They were mates, they were valuable, they were treasures, and they were _his_, and that worthless pile of would-be scrap metal had no business being anywhere near said mates, much less being responsible for their very lives and well-being.

Going by Ratchet's amused glance, Will's admittedly rather feeble attempt at hiding the Seeker's displeasure about the whole thing was apparently a bit of a lost cause.

"You have travelled in those machines yourself often enough," the medic pointed out as he helped Will get fitted with weaponry – and holy frag, he had _missiles_ now, and if it wasn't because there was a very real risk he could end up using them against their own side, Will wasn't sure he could have kept from smirking.

As it was, he settled for taking comfort in the slight weight of those missiles; not enough to disturb his flight but still enough to be a comforting reminder that he was no longer defenceless, and that was a comfort he hadn't realised how much he had missed until then.

"I have, and I still think it's a miracle those things can take off at all, never mind what Bobby says."

Ratchet just snorted but that was fine with Will, too. He had heard Sideswipe bitch often enough to know that he wasn't the only one who distrusted the flying tin-tubes, even if Sideswipe's issues were more related to vanity than anything else. Will personally suspected that minor stuff like personal safety and potential offlining came quite a bit further down Sideswipe's list of priorities than an unscratched paint-job and newly-polished swords did but then, the 'Vette had the skills to pull it off, too, and like Pit if Will was going to seriously bitch about the issues of an ally who had the skills in combat that Sideswipe did. Even the Seeker, with its long list of grievances with the 'Vette, could agree with that. Most reluctantly, certainly, but agree nonetheless.

"We can't be everywhere," Ratchet finally pointed out as he finished up the last... whatever he did and tapped Will's arm to let him know he was finished. "They serve their purpose in transporting us. They look more vulnerable than they are."

_Doesn't mean I have to like it,_ Will said mentally and shrugged, before flexing his arms to get used to the added weight of his new ammunition. Ratchet ignored the comment in favour of a pointed look and Will answered the unspoken question.

"All good," he reported and couldn't help the bit of amusement at the Seeker's smugness about it all. Then again, if it hadn't been for the thoughts of Starscream constantly running through his head, Will would have been right there being smug with it. They had _missiles_. "All good, both of us. Target systems are up and running, and the weight and balance won't be an issue. If anything, it feels a little better than before."

Ratchet just nodded at that and didn't look surprised in the least. "You were meant for carrying weapons. You can function just as well without them but your core programming and your very body were designed with armed conflict in mind. It's simply a matter of the sort of weapons used. In this case, an Earth-based missile design adapted by Ironhide to suit your alt-mode. On Cybertron, it could have been a very different weapon in its place."

Which made sense. You chose your weapons according to the situation when you could and adapted what you had to work with when you couldn't. It might be an Earth-based design – alt-mode and missiles both – but it still felt surprisingly... right. It could just be because he was Earth-based himself but he somehow doubted it and for a brief, insane moment, he was tempted to ask Starscream if he felt at home in an alt-mode designed by fleshlings.

The last adjustments done, Ratchet glanced towards the busy runway and a figure waiting by the side as the anthill that was NEST moved around it, humans and Autobots and machinery in one huge mass of organised chaos.

"Your mate is waiting. I have things to do."

A dismissal if Will had ever heard one – not that he could blame him; the medic probably had just as many nasty thoughts on his mind about Starscream and their situation as Will did – and he nodded in acknowledgement before he turned and left, making his way over to said mate-wife in the middle of the confusion around them. It wasn't hard – people gave him space, not only because they were used to the 'Bots but also because he was still something alien and unsettling, and for once he didn't mind – and he saw her follow his progress until he finally reached her just beyond the side of the tarmac, away from the worst of it all and out of hearing range as well.

Her presence made the Seeker purr contently in his mind. It wasn't a bond like with 'Hide or Ratchet but it was still strong enough to matter and make that alien other half of him respond to it as well. She was a lot harder to pick up on than his two Cybertronian mates were and the range of their connection was limited at best but Will suspected that if given the time and chance to practice, his Seeker half could make that connection a lot stronger. They had created that bond and knew how it felt now and those two things seemed to be the hardest parts over with.

The world was a buzz around them, indistinct voices and the sound of machines and occasionally a word or heavy footsteps that stood out among the rest, but for the most part it was nothing but background noise and easily dismissed as he held down his hand and allowed his mate-wife to make herself comfortable on the impromptu metal chair.

This time not even her breathing changed as he carefully lifted his hand again to bring her closer to eye level and his spark felt like it twisted for a moment in response. She was small and fragile and vulnerable and she trusted him and he wasn't even sure he trusted _himself_ yet on most days, and that wasn't even getting into what the Seeker could do on a whim. He knew it wouldn't hurt a mate on purpose but that didn't mean he trusted it not to forget that humans were fragile beings because he shared a mind with the thing and slagging well knew it was impulsive at best and had the common sense and daunting self-restraint of a hyperactive toddler.

It wasn't a comparison the Seeker had been particularly impressed with when Will had actually explained it but then, Will had not been particularly impressed with the Seeker at the time, either, so he'd figured that turnabout was fair play.

He had the echo of Ironhide's presence in the back of his mind but the bond felt muted and distracted and was probably being blocked by the mech in an offer of what little privacy he could have in his current situation. He appreciated the gesture, at least, even if he would never truly have any secrets anymore when it came to Ironhide. That whole thing should probably bother him a lot more than it did, even if he trusted Ironhide with his life, but Will suspected it was a wonderful combination of shock, stress, and stubbornness that kept it all at bay to be dealt with later... assuming they got out of it alive. If not, he still had his list of grievances to air to Primus.

Even the Seeker was being suspiciously quiet but a silent inquiry gave him the feeling of _hesitance-worry-impatience-fear_ and he could understand that. If he could have helped, he would have - for all of their issues, they were still partners and trine-mates - but Will had yet to find anything to help make himself feel better about the whole situation, much less a terrified youngling who probably understood better than anyone the gravity of the situation. He couldn't even reasonably compare it to the first time he saw active combat himself because this was really nothing like it. Ratchet had felt distracted, too, if less so than the Seeker - more used to putting his life on the line and being a target by virtue of being a combat medic and the last genuine Autobot medic around - but still distracted and still worried. His body language had told Will as much, even if their bond hadn't.

To be fair, it wasn't something Will liked to think about, either, and however much he might have been against it before, he was quickly learning the joys of denial now. It wasn't like there was much he _could_ do, not this close to leaving and with no Starscream around to practice against. Worrying would get him nowhere. They would meet up with the slaggers soon enough and he really doubted it would matter then how much he had and hadn't worried about it. It wasn't a matter of skill, after all - he was honest enough with himself to admit that much. Skill wouldn't come into play to their advantage until he actually proved he could go against Starscream in person and he knew perfectly well that 'frozen with indecision' and 'deer in headlights' rather than flat-out treason was probably the best he could hope for in that particular regard.

"Will?"

Sarah's voice cut through his brooding, low and worried, and he cursed his tunnel-vision for good measure before the Seeker made an apologetic sound followed by Will's own sigh.

_I'm sorry_, he offered quietly.

He expected her to pick up on those unspoken words in the way that she always seemed to know what he thought - long marriage or mind-reading abilities, he still wasn't sure, but he figured it was the former or she would probably have glared at him for his language a long time ago - but he hadn't expected the way she froze in his hand for a second and her eyes widened almost imperceptibly; too little to notice if he hadn't already been paying close attention to her but more than enough to tell him something was going on.

The Seeker offered a short, concerned series of clicks and whirrs in what Will had learned to recognise as that alien Seeker-language, and the meaning apparently carried over just fine from body language and tone alone because Sarah relaxed again in his hand and the blue eyes that found his were looking at him with a sense of wonder.

"I felt you. In my mind, like when you scanned for me," she explained quietly. "Stop being sorry, Will. It's not your fault. You, or the Seeker. You're making the best of a bad situation. You died but I got you back. Maybe in a different wrapping and maybe with someone else I have to share you with, but I can live with that if it means having you here."

Nice, calm, reasonable... which, sadly, wasn't really something Will's human mind was particularly inclined to listen to when it came to that whole situation and much less his own guilt at putting his small family through that sort of thing.

"I was the one who got myself killed by being stupid," he responded just as quietly and brushed one finger against her hair with infinite gentleness, grateful that Seekers needed as delicate sensors as they did. It allowed him to feel that much, at least. "I could have been more careful. I could have not gotten killed in the first place."

Sarah snorted in the way that Will had learned meant 'you're being an absolute idiot' – and he really couldn't argue with that one – and then her expression softened again.

"Then get back to me alive."

Will's optics shuttered briefly at that, the sudden, sharp pain in his spark right back again at the soft words and the answer he didn't want to say out loud.

_I can't promise that._

And he couldn't, not with Starscream out there, not with the Seeker unable to do much of anything to resist at all, not with Megatron out to convert or kill him like the slag-aft Seeker-wannabe of a glitch that he was. He couldn't promise it and even if he could, it would still say nothing about the circumstances of his survival. Megatron wasn't going to let an Autobot Seeker wander around and Starscream's protection of a stupid, misguided youngling only extended so far. Coming back alive did not necessarily mean coming back with the same paint-job as he had left with and that thought scared him far more than an offlining did.

Something must have shown through the weak bond with Sarah, or he was just that obvious to the people who knew him, because she shifted in his hand and rested one of her own hands against his much larger metal finger and gave him a look that left little doubt that she knew exactly what was going on in his head.

"Get back to me alive, Will," she repeated softly. "I'm not NEST or Optimus Prime or Ironhide. I'm your wife and I trust you, with myself and Annabelle both. And if you decide that a new 'paint-job' is in order, then I trust that, too."

It was reassuring and terrifying all in once, one less thing to worry about but also one less leash to keep him safely bound at the Autobots' side, and all he could do was shift his own hands slightly as well to curl protectively in a shield around her.

He would keep her safe. He would keep her safe, whatever the cost, because Ironhide could stand his ground a hell of a lot better than Will could and Ratchet wasn't half bad, either, but Sarah was small and fragile and _his._

It was as much the Seeker part in him as the human who made that silent promise, and then he carefully uncurled his hands again as the background noise picked up somewhere behind them and the first in a series of pings in his processors alerted him that their departure was approaching fast.

"I'll try," he promised quietly.

He moved to put her down on the ground again but something in the look she gave him stopped him and he watched silently as she took off her small, familiar gold necklace. It took a second for it to click in Will's entirely-too-stressed processors and then his eyes flared briefly in surprise.

_Oh._

He knew there were little compartments here and there in his new body, even with an alt-mode like his, but he had never considered them before or paid attention in the slightest even in theory so he put the matter in his Seeker half's clawed, metallic hands and watched with some bemusement as coding flickered through his mind before it finally seemed to settle on... whatever the Seeker had decided on.

Something shifted near the top of the gold-tinted canopy that somehow transformed from cockpit and into being part of his chest, and a pair of small plates near his spark-chamber split apart even as he followed Sarah's unvoiced order to bring her closer.

Her hand brushed lightly against armour plating, lingered for a moment above his spark-chamber, and then she shifted again and he felt the minute change as his sensors picked up on twelve-point-four grams of familiar soft, yellow metal as the small necklace found its way into the compartment and he and the Seeker both made sure their mate-wife was well away from it again before the compartment closed.

"Come back to me alive," Sarah repeated softly before she allowed him to lower her to the ground again and slid down from his hand with practised ease.

For a moment his world narrowed down to nothing more than that small bit of precious metal and the silent, desperate promise that he would do everything he could to fulfil that one request, and then he was brought back again as a second ping intruded upon his processors and he became aware of someone behind him.

Sarah had left but Ironhide was there, waiting silent as Will forced rampant emotions back under control and turned around to face him. The connection was still muted, if less so than before, and that was probably how the mech had been able to sneak up on him. That, and the Pit-spawned tunnel-vision he doubted he would ever get used to.

"Lennox?"

It sounded like the beginning of a serious question about his mental state of mind or his emotions or something else he really did not want to talk about so Will fell back on good ol' army training and settled for a diversion.

"Shouldn't you be all wrapped up in a cargo hold like a Christmas present by now?"

Judging by Ironhide's snort, that little diversion had been seen through immediately – frag his inability to properly block a bond, and frag allies who knew him entirely too well while he was at it, too – but the mech allowed it, anyway.

"As soon as I get your aft on the runway, Lennox."

A glance in the mentioned direction and Will very carefully did not pass along the Seeker's disgusted look. The runway with the actual, human F-22s that would take off as air support for the C-17s if needed and which they were supposed to fly along with to get used to working with other people, and while the Seeker liked its alt-mode, that courtesy did not extend to the actual F-22s, too.

Will had made the mistake of asking what its problem was. The list of insults aimed at said F-22s that he got in return was enough to convince him that he really didn't need to know and he really didn't care enough to push any further for an answer. _Slow, weak,_ and _useless_ had ranked pretty high on the list of insults, though, so Will could have some qualified guesses, at least. Seekers weren't that well-armoured or well-armed compared to a lot of ground-bound mechs but they were fast and the sort of acrobatics they were capable of in the air was nothing a human-built jet could have done. It was their strength and they took pride in it. Looking at it like that it wasn't that much of a wonder that the Seeker was annoyed with their escort to say the least.

"I don't need a runway," Will pointed out on behalf of both of them but followed Ironhide towards the jets, anyway, knowing a lost cause when he saw it.

That was probably why Ironhide looked vaguely amused, too. Will doubted he would have found it quite as amusing if he'd flat-out refused.

"I know," the mech responded. "Be a good bird-brain and play along, anyway. You make the pilots twitchy."

There was more things to say, a million worries and fear and gnawing uncertainties, but time had run out for that and when it came down to it, it didn't matter, either. What Will knew, Ironhide knew as well and he could not yet block it enough to keep secrets. Everything that was gnawing on Will's mind Ironhide already knew, for better and for worse, and he was still there despite it all.

As he approached the runway and felt Ironhide's hand on his arm in silent support, Will sent him a flicker of gratefulness before the Weapon Specialist was called off and Will was left among Earth-jets and pilots and thoughts that had entirely too many opportunities to demand his attention.

What Will knew, Ironhide knew, and still the mech was there, despite fantasies of Starscream and thoughts of treason and everything else Will and the Seeker had put the poor mech through. He was still there despite it all, spark-merge and not, and Will's hand lingered for a moment on the compartment with the small necklace within.

Maybe he couldn't promise to come back alive but he would fragging well keep them safe. He wasn't going to make Ironhide pull the trigger, he wasn't going to turn his weapons on his comrades in arms, and he sure as frag wasn't going to roll over and beg just because Starscream wanted him to.

He imprinted that promise on his very spark and felt the Seeker add its own resoluteness to it, the combined stubbornness of two beings so very much in over their heads and so painfully aware of it, too, and even that didn't matter now.

Maybe the odds weren't good but going by the odds, the whole of NEST should have been dead several times over. Right now, that stubbornness was all they really had going for them and that would fragging well have to do.


	42. Interlude 6

**A/N:** This is a slow-moving chapter and frankly more an interlude than anything else. This is because the author is leaving on vacation and the next chapter won't be up until sometime around the 22nd of July. With the plot conclusion coming up, I could either head right on into the fun of writing said battle and leave with a cliffhanger, or I could do an interlude and wait with the cliffhangers and all until after I'm back home and able to update weekly again. *cough* I decided on the interlude and hope it won't be too boring.

Have a great early summer and we'll return to your regularly scheduled updates in four weeks!

* * *

Unlike quite a few of his soldiers and against every bit of common belief, Megatron held no particular dislike for the insignificant third planet that orbited an equally insignificant star in the outer ranges of an utterly average galaxy.

He was disgusted by the organic life-forms on said planet in general and absolutely despised the so-called dominant species that the Autobots, pathetic as always, had chosen to... _ally_ themselves with, but the planet itself was not something he held any particular dislike for.

On his better days, Megatron actually appreciated it, even if he would never admit that particular confession out loud. It was small and utterly infested with organic matter, covered in mostly water and had polar regions that still made Megatron snarl at the memory, but when it all came down to it, there was a small part of Megatron's processors that nonetheless couldn't help but admire the planet for it. For all of its... unfortunate characteristics it also held a ruthlessness that Cybertron, even at its most untamed, had never managed. Cybertron had been controlled and leashed by _its_ dominant species – if it had ever had weather, it had been long before Megatron's time, and the planet itself was as solid and predictable as legends said its creator had deemed appropriate for the species that had been brought into being to populate it.

The organic homeworld was...different. The ice had been Megatron's first lesson: what looked solid could be anything but and what would have been harmless if he had been given but moments to prepare could still bring him unnervingly close to being offlined because he had been too arrogant to see the deceptive innocence of the surface for what it was, too preoccupied with his hunt to pay any real sort of attention to the matter.

Weather had been a second lesson. It didn't matter as much to Megatron as it did to his Seekers, and even then it was a matter of vanity and complaints about discomfort more than anything – their first encounter with hurricane-strength winds had been interesting, certainly, but hardly dangerous – but it was still something alien to a species that had been used to the ordered world of Cybertron.

The tectonic plates, though, were perhaps Megatron's personal favourite. That sort of potential for widescale destruction with no means of defence for the organic pests that inhabited the planet was nothing short of art, and he couldn't help but admire the beauty of it all, the cycle of violence followed by long periods of peace to lure the organics close again before the planet would strike once more. It was the sort of destruction that Megatron could appreciate. While true that it held no value from a military point of view, it was still art in its own way and certainly something to be appreciated for its destructive power in itself.

Perhaps Cybertron had been like that once, when it had been young and its Cybertronian inhabitants still had to prove their resilience and worth of life in their taming of the planet they had been granted by Primus. The organics, however, had no such skill and so Megatron was free to admire the ferocity of the third planet of Sol for however long that star would last before it burned out... which, in their war, was never guaranteed to be a natural death. With the destruction of the Harvester, the life-expectancy of the star had certainly increased and for now, the planet was... acceptable to Megatron. Better than the burned-out, destroyed shell of their former home, at least. One day they might have the hope of rebuilding Cybertron from the cold ashes and recreate their world as it was before the suffocating rule of bureaucrats and worthless politicians but for now, this temperamental chunk of rock would have to do.

Megatron had spent far more time musing on said chunk of rock than anyone would have suspected him of and that gave him an advantage that his soldiers - Starscream included - did not have. While they had claimed vengeance on behalf of their Lord though the lives of the worthless organics, Megatron had never allowed himself to let his anger and disgust overshadow everything. Retribution was still demanded but that didn't mean he should leave aside all semblance of common sense and responsibility. The worse parts of Megatron's imprisonment had been in fleshling hands but he never forgot that it was the planet itself that had brought him down in the first place, and if it could take _him_ down... there was always the risk, however small, that others had fallen victim to the same.

Normally, he would not have cared – strength and independence were Decepticon virtues and ones they had always lorded over the infinitely weaker Autobots – but this case was different. If Megatron could fall prey to it, so could others, and despite everything that had happened, he was still the Lord High Protector of Cybertron and as so would not leave a fellow Cybertronian at the mercies of pathetic organics like that.

And so, when he had finally been returned online through no help from his treacherous Second, Megatron had asked his Communications Officer to search the planet as time and opportunity permitted and ensure that no one else was left a prisoner as he had been. He doubted it would be the case but the thought had still refused to leave him to his devices and served to be a distraction he could not afford. A last nod to his duties to their kind that he mentioned to no one else because above all, Decepticon valued strength and Starscream would respond to any sign of weakness, imagined or otherwise.

In the end, all scans had come up negative and so begged the question that Megatron found himself musing as battle drew closer and the small symbol that was an Autobot-allied Seeker claimed an increasing amount of attention from his Second in Command.

_Where did you come from?_

He knew the official explanation was that the creature had been trapped in ice like Megatron himself, found and brought to a fleshling lab for experiments... but given that Soundwave's scans of the planet had revealed nothing of the sort, it left only two explanations to consider: that Soundwave had somehow overlooked the creature or that the official explanation was... lacking in truth at best.

Knowing Soundwave as well as he did, Megatron strongly suspected the latter explanation was correct, which left him with the very same question again.

_Where did you come from?_

He had entertained some theories but they were unlikely at best.

A new arrival would have been spotted, not to mention that Starscream had kept a close eye on any Seekers turned Autobots and had taken great satisfaction in reporting every single one of the creatures destroyed not long before Megatron left Cybertron for the last time. Starscream was unreliable at best, granted, but in this case Megatron was willing to take his word for it. Starscream had taken the disloyalty of the Autobot Seekers as a personal insult, far more so than Megatron had, and had gone through great pains to remove the stain on his breed's reputation.

A sparkling kept in stasis and only recently brought out of it – because that was truthfully what it was; a youngling at best and in some cases still little more than a sparkling – was not a theory that made much sense, either. If it had arrived with the rest of the Autoscum, Megatron would have known, and that was not even taking into account that it was a _Seeker_ sparkling and that Seekers had kept a close eye on all of their sparklings. Some had been stolen through aeons of war but all had been accounted for – that, too, Megatron was willing to take his Second's word for.

With no Allspark left, and no Autobot Seekers remaining, it could not have been a new spark brought into existence on this planet they now found themselves on, and if Megatron hadn't known the idea was absolutely preposterous, he would have said that Primus himself had brought that spark into being, because Megatron was long since out of any actual, credible theories.

Starscream, of course, had noticed nothing of that sort. Megatron respected his treacherous Second for his skills and his control of what Seekers remained but he wasn't blind to said Second's rather one-track mind, either. It was one of the main reasons why the Seeker would never reign, whatever else the Air Commander might think. No Seeker was programmed to lead anything but their own breed and Megatron knew that... and so, he suspected, did Starscream, however deep down that knowledge might be. It wouldn't stop the Seeker's incessant attempts to take over but it was one of the main reasons why he had never succeeded. If he had been more of a leader, more aware of his weaknesses and better able to control himself, there would have been the actual possibility that he could one day have bested Megatron. As it was now, however, there was no chance at all.

Megatron had focused on the _why _and _how_ behind the appearance of their new Seeker. Starscream had focused solely on bringing it back under its rightful commander and to his credit, had succeeded to an admirable degree as well. While the creature hadn't abandoned the limitations of the Prime, it at least seemed willing to consider the possibility, which was far more than any _proper_ Autobot Seeker had been willing to do in the past. Megatron strongly suspected that if given more opportunities, Starscream might even be able to lure the thing away completely but that would take more time and effort than Megatron was willing to exert and he knew quite well that patience was not the strong suit of any Seeker, much less the Air Commander.

It was not a trait Megatron shared, obviously, but he knew it lay dormant in his programming. There were other Cybertronians than just Seekers who had been able to fly but Seekers were the most competent of the breeds and when Megatron had gone through the process of a reformat, Seeker-programming had provided the foundation of his flight-abilities. He had not been sparked with wings – and truthfully, a reformat like his was difficult enough to remain out of reach for any ordinary mech – and with new wings, he had needed the ability to control them as well. His core programming remained the same but the wings... the wings and the ability to fly was all Seeker-based and gave him an understanding of the breed that Optimus Prime had never had.

It let him understand the creatures and it let him know now what would be needed to gain control of the wayward youngling that the Prime held. They could likely have lured it away with time and effort but a far more effective strategy would be a display of strength and the physical presence of the Air Commander. He didn't really believe that the Seeker's mates would follow it into Decepticon hands but then, stranger things had happened and Megatron would not refuse the chance to claim one of Prime's mechs if the opportunity arose.

Megatron understood Seekers and that was why he now listened and watched through Soundwave's optics and scanners as his Second in Command passed just out of range of the Autobot base to deliver a message to Prime and exert a last bit of influence on the Seeker before they met in combat. Optimus Prime would not be a willing combatant but Megatron did not particularly care. He had not left the Prime with any options unless he wanted to see some of his precious fleshlings slaughtered and if anyone, he knew his brother's weakness when it came to such things.

The Prime would be there and the Seeker would follow. No creature worthy of the name would refuse a battle, much less one that offered said creature the chance to see its Air Commander.

Megatron watched as the three glyphs that represented his Command Trine passed the Autobot base to head for the location Megatron had chosen for their battlefield, and he did not bother to wait for his Second in Command to deign to contact him with a progress report.

"Starscream."

It was not a question. Megatron knew Seekers and he knew that to control them, you had to control their Air Commander above all. It was a battle to keep Starscream leashed but worth the effort nonetheless, and while Megatron had considered once or twice the convenience in merely removing the pest, it would only result in a new Air Commander to control. A new, unfamiliar pest to replace a predictable one was not a desirable outcome.

"He will be ours, Lord Megatron," Starscream's voice greeted him in response, alluring more than unpleasant for once, and Megatron's optics shuttered partially in satisfaction. There was none of Starscream's normally snide behaviour at the moment and that alone would have been enough to make Megatron listen.

This would be _good._

"He is a Seeker. His Autoscum loyalties are a matter of little more than convenience. He spark-merged with Ironhide and claimed the Hatchet for a mate," Starscream continued, still with that infectious allure and undisguised satisfaction in his voice – pleasure at having a lost Seeker returned to him, most likely. Whatever it was, Megatron was not about to complain. "Decepticons with Autoscum markings that only lack the courage to admit it. If they are true mates, they will follow or pay the price. The Prime's hold on the medic has already weakened. He is Seeker-kin. I will _make_ him obey... with your permission, of _course_, glorious Megatron."

Good news – outstanding news, even, and enough that Megatron allowed Starscream's pathetic lip-service to loyalty to slide for the moment. For once even Megatron couldn't find flaw in his action and competence should be rewarded... even when there was little else but badly-disguised and always useless plans for treason behind it. Ambition was a Decepticon virtue but not in the hands of a Seeker of Starscream's vanity and ego.

The medic. Megatron remembered that one in glimpses of memories he had claimed from the Seekers that had fought for his attention and favour. He knew Ratchet and he knew the name the medic had been given by both sides of their war but it wasn't until Starscream had focused his attention on the new Seeker that Megatron's processors had recalled the memories from whatever deep, dark pit of a hole he kept unnecessary knowledge like that in. Those memories were very different from the weak – if admittedly skilled – Autobot medic he had become familiar with through the war and _that_ one, unlike the worthless Autoscum one, would be worth the attention it would take to claim it for his cause.

"Of course," Megatron finally replied in a deceptively silky voice. "Do not fail me, Starscream. My patience is not infinite and I was under the impression that a worthy Air Commander had far more control over his kin than this."

Starscream wanted to respond, Megatron could _feel_ it, but even Seekers could display some measure of common sense if they had to.

"Yes, Lord Megatron," Starscream responded after a moment too long, still with some of the allure in his voice but far more unpleasant and grating than before.

Megatron dismissed the connection with no further words, as much his right as their Lord as it was the proper way to handle a Seeker to make it respect a superior, and then he focused his attention on the Autobot base and what little information Soundwave could tear from the heavy scrambling fields that surrounded the island. He knew where his own people were, knew that even Starscream would obey without the need for force on this occasion, and so it allowed him to focus on... other things.

Location delivered, it would not take the Prime long to respond, the useless organics were too precious for him and the co-called _allies_ he claimed amongst the worthless beings were too fickle to understand the realities of war and the necessity of sacrifices.

The Prime would respond, the Seeker would be at his side, and if there was any truth in Starscream's words, then perhaps Megatron might even be in a position to... _correct_ the unfortunate decision the ancient glitch of a weapon's specialist had made in defecting so long ago. With some luck and some skills, one battle would rid them of three opponents, one way or another. To claim them for his own command would be preferable but if not, offlining was always a valid option as well. The Seeker was the weak spot. The medic and Ironhide would not yield easily but with their mate on Megatron's side, there would be little else they could do. Seekers, Megatron knew from experience, took a particularly _dim_ view of the betrayal of a mate.

...Even, he supposed, a Seeker as young as Prime's.

_Where did they find you?_

If he didn't know better, he would halfway have suspected that they had somehow recovered enough of the Allspark to create sparks once more but the idea was preposterous at the very least. Megatron was the Lord High Protector and if the Allspark had still existed, he would have felt it, not to mention the fact that Seekers had always been sparked by Seekers and never through the Allspark.

Megatron knew the planet and he would stake his very spark if needed on that Seeker not having been there before. It had not been there before, it had not arrived with the rest of the Prime's worthless followers, and that left... precious few options to consider.

_Where are you from, little creature?_

The thought nagged him but in honesty, it was of no matter now. He would know soon enough, whatever the cause and reason behind the Seeker's appearance. There was little that could be denied the Lord High Protector and this would not be one such thing.

The creature was a mystery and Megatron intended to solve it, by whatever means necessary.


	43. Chapter 37

**A/N:** Author is back! … and owes a stack of review-responses and reviews, which should hopefully be done tomorrow. Well, today, technically, since it's past midnight. Thank you so much to anyone who's still reading this – reviews are love and much appreciated, but even having people still reading this monster makes me happy! So thank you very much, all of you! :)

**A/N the Second:** This chapter hasn't been betaed yet. It's been read through a few times but proper betaing won't happen until tomorrow. There shouldn't be too many things that need corrected but considered yourself warned, anyway.

Vivienne Grainger wrote a gorgeous fic in an AU-ish verse that bridges 'Four Lives' and this little monster of a Seeker-fic – in which Will discovers that if he thought being around giant, alien robots was confusing, it really has nothing on being dead. It's called 'Death Duties' and can be found on her FFNet account. Go read, because it's pretty and awesome and this chapter will still be waiting when you're done :D

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Will Lennox didn't know what Megatron's fascination was with deserts but despite the amount of bitching and complaining he'd done about it since the 'Cons had first made themselves known, it wasn't a fascination he really objected to. Deserts made for a surprisingly nice battlefield when you had Decepticons to deal with. It didn't leave you a lot of cover but it also didn't have millions of people in close proximity and didn't come with far too many civilian casualties or the headache of trying to keep a cover of nothing-out-of-the-ordinary.

The Seeker, surprisingly, agreed... if for somewhat different reasons. It had quickly decided it hated the sand on Diego Garcia, so that really didn't bode well for an actual desert, but it was quite content with the lack of clouds, humidity, and anything it might fly into on accident. Given a couple of centuries and Will suspected that boredom with nothing but rocks and sandy dunes might make it wish for something a little more exciting, but for now the thing was still young and pretty much anything was fascinating and new to it.

Of course, that also killed off most of the small and very unlikely hope that Will always held that Starscream's attention would slip one day in battle and send him head-first into a mountainside but then, life was full of little disappointments like that.

The Indian Ocean skimmed by below them as they approached the coast with all of the painfully sluggish speed a C-17 was capable of – and sluggish it was, to Will and the Seeker both. Having to play nice with the actual F-22s and not just leave them behind in a cloud of dust had been bad enough. Having to keep pace with something that couldn't even _approach_ the speed of sound had started out annoying and ended up as nothing less than excruciating for the very proud and very, very speed-addicted Seeker-part of him. Worse was the fact that they couldn't do a thing about it. Ignoring the fact that the C-17s held the safety-measures that currently kept the 'Con Seekers from just bearing down on them in a rain of missiles, the fact remained that the pathetically slow, vulnerable bits of flying tin also held what was _theirs_ and neither Will nor the Seeker were about the stray far from Ironhide or Ratchet. Not that there was much they probably could do if Starscream and the rest of the fraggers somehow found a way to attack but it was the principle of things. It was _mate_ and _mate_ was theirs to protect.

As a compromise, they'd finally settled on air acrobatics instead. Fly ahead, fall back, catch up, spin and turn and repeat as desired – it was enough to have made his stomach churn as a human; now it was nothing more than a way to keep himself distracted from the unwelcome combination of the anxious knot in his non-existent stomach and the boredom that left him entirely too much time to think about it.

A boredom and anxiety that he had long ago given up on shielding, too, which resulted in Ironhide and Ratchet both getting the full force of his distraction. Not a very decent thing to do, Will-the-human figured. The Seeker seemed to think that it was perfectly fair.

"And to imagine I thought you had been restless as a human," Ratchet remarked dryly over their comm-frequency.

Of course, they both gave as good as they got and that was a nice distraction, too, so maybe that was why Will insisted on being a pain-in-the-aft about it all.

"Hey, I usually got partnered with Ironhide and _he_ never complained," Will pointed out and evened out his course and his speed to match the C-17 with the medic in it without a bit of conscious thought involved in the process. An amused feeling through his bond told him that Ratchet was perfectly aware of what he had just done but the medic didn't comment on it - he was probably just grateful that Will had stopped 'pacing' the airspace for a while. Their medic might have experience with Seeker bonds and flights but that didn't mean it wasn't necessarily annoying, anyway... even if Will honestly did try to keep the worst of that part of it away from his bonds.

"Perhaps that would be because Ironhide was only marginally more controlled in his restlessness than you were," Ratchet replied and ignored the snort from said weapons specialist as he listened in on their conversation.

"Not my fault the fragging planes are slow. I could have used that time to play target-practice with the flying fraggers and the rest of the Deceptiscum Megatron has left." Ironhide this time, bless his restless, impatient spark, and it was a testament to how far they had come that the Seeker didn't object to having its kind - or its Air Commander - referred to as a flying fragger. It had started to know Ironhide and his way of being and it had gotten used to it, too. It would have been insulted before. Now it was just mildly bemused at the mate that didn't seem to understand how glorious even an enemy Seeker was.

"If the planes were faster, weight, distance, and cargo capacity would be a problem instead. Are you perhaps volunteering to swim the rest of the way if we get you a faster plane instead? Or would a trim of your cannons be better? You seem to have put on some weight in armour as well since I first saw you."

Ironhide huffed. "You're the one with redundant systems."

"I'm also not the one complaining," Ratchet pointed out. "Cope or learn to swim, Ironhide. I'll be laughing from the comfort of my plane and let the Twins fish you out when you sink like the pile of metal you are."

Amusement from the Seeker, amusement and the clear impression of how very _unnatural_ water and swimming was, and then Will let himself fall back again to do another lazy circling of the group of planes. None of the pilots even reacted anymore. He'd heard some insistent inquiries aimed at Optimus earlier on about just what the hell he thought he was doing - being told about a Seeker's little idiosyncrasies and experiencing them in person were two very different things, apparently, and clearly not appreciated in the least by their pilots - but even that had eventually stopped as everyone seemed to accept that their alien jet seemed to know what it was doing and more importantly seemed to have no intentions whatsoever of _not_ doing it, possible orders by Prime or not, thus making the entire argument somewhat pointless in the first place.

Being with NEST tended to be a lesson in futility like that. Anyone who'd tried to teach Sideswipe or Ironhide restraint - or the Twins even somewhat decent English - knew that with painful certainty. Lennox himself, as a good commanding officer, had usually just laughed in the privacy of his office. If they succeeded, great. If not, they could chalk it up to a nice bonding experience with their alien allies and a lesson in having the serenity to accept the things that can't be changed. Or something. Epps had just called it good entertainment as long as they weren't the ones providing it.

There was land up ahead, a thin line of cliffs that grew steadily larger, and Will added that small bit of power that was needed to send them roaring past their group and up ahead of them. He was tired, he was restless, he was anxious, and this was _land_ and not the unnerving unnaturalness of an endless sea that the Seeker seemed to have a bone-deep fear of. Will couldn't blame it, either. The thought of crash-landing in the middle of an ocean with no land for five hundred miles in any direction would have been enough to give the Seeker-part of him some nasty nightmares if it hadn't been for the fact that Cybertronians didn't dream.

"Stay within range, Lennox." Ironhide's voice interrupted before they could get too far ahead – and yes, there was that.

Soundwave was up there, however much Will didn't like to think about it and however much the Seeker wanted nothing more than to tear the winged would-be Seeker imposter to bits for daring to keep them under surveillance in the first place. Soundwave was up there and only the bulky scrambling equipment carried by the C-17s kept the fragger from getting a good look and a good target lock on them. Soundwave and the enemy Seekers that lingered at the edges of Will's awareness with unwanted persistence to match the three marks on their screens, never coming closer than three hundred miles away. Far enough away that chasing after the fraggers would have been pointless, even if their Prime had let them, but still close enough to be a constant source of unsettled annoyance to him. Starscream might think he was doing them a favour in trying to steal the foolish little Autobot Seeker away to the proper side of the war but as far as Will was concerned, he could stick that plan somewhere where the sun didn't shine. They were enemy combatants and no one liked having an enemy lurking in the shadows, just waiting for them to slip up.

Megatron would be up there, too, somewhere, Will had no doubt about it – the slagger _did_ have wings and some idea of how to use them, but whether he was far enough away that they couldn't spot him or just hiding to let his Command trine get the attention, none of them knew for sure.

Their own surveillance was already working overtime to keep an eye on everything. A normal mission was bad enough, even when the 'Cons didn't know they'd been spotted or from what direction they'd arrive. An ambush was a whole lot worse. Starscream, considerate slagger that he was, had provided them with a time and location and not enough time to really pull off a decent attack from another direction. The 'Cons knew they were coming, they knew where and when and the general direction, and that more than anything made everyone on those airplane grip their weapons just a bit tighter.

_Your speed is pathetic._

And then there was that. There had been insistent requests from an unfamiliar frequency since the Seekers had shown up on their screen and for once, Will and the Seeker had unanimously turned down every last one of them. They knew perfectly well what they would find on the other end and it wasn't something either of them wanted to deal with, not after the spectacular failure that had been their last talk.

The voice was little more than a low murmur, with barely a ghost of the appeal it held at closer range but that didn't matter. They both recognised it in the snide little insults that had been offered on and off through their flight whenever Starscream came close enough. Obviously, the fragger could contact them from a good bit further away than just two hundred miles. It just didn't carry the same compulsion to submit and obey... which was probably why Starscream had waited until he was closer when he had attacked Will and Ratchet both. Anyone would be stupid to turn down the advantage of surprise and give the enemy time to strengthen their defences before the attack. Why Starscream didn't come closer now, Will had no idea. Maybe they had orders. Maybe it was just another mind-frag on the way.

He felt a sense of soundless support from his bonds with Ratchet and Ironhide both as he passed on the 'message' from the Air Commander, along with the strong impression that he should ignore the other Seeker if he could at all but even at that distance, it was easier said than done and he had learned that fast, too. The voice wasn't strong but the fact that it was _Starscream_ was enough to keep him from blocking it entirely. Whatever Will might say, the fragger was still the Air Commander and it took a lot more drastic means than just pure stubbornness to kick him out for good.

_Why do you demean yourself into following **fleshling** creations like what when you should fly with equals? What proper Seeker has patience for such pathetic pace?_

Since blocking it was impossible, ignoring it should have been his second course of action. Starscream, unfortunately, had aeons of experience in just what to do to make a Seeker react and Lennox, unfortunately, for all that his mind was partially human, still carried that Seeker coding and the Seeker hair-trigger temper.

Seeing dry land below him and soaring over sand again – blissful, blessed _desert_ – was enough to cool some of his temper but not enough. Ratchet picked up his intentions a moment too late for his short, sharp reprimand to matter as Seeker programming took over again and the importance of the Air Commander overruled his attention to anything not an immediate danger to his mates.

_Says the fragger who puts up with Megatron. At least Prime doesn't pretend to be something he's not. Megatron isn't even a Seeker, he just stole bits of your coding to slap on a ground-pounder frame,_ Will bit back.

_A valiant attempt to correct the numerous flaws in the worthless frame of his creation,_ Starscream corrected and Will wasn't sure if amusement was any better than anger and arrogance. _He may have been sparked as merely another worthless ground-pounder but his choices have made him far more. Science is a worthy ally. Even Seekers can be brought closer to perfection, after all._

The Seeker part felt unsettled – messing with frames or coding was _wrong,_ period – and Will wasn't feeling a whole lot better. Starscream he could deal with. The implication that the fraggers out there might be even more dangerous than he thought thanks to some convenient messing about with their insides and coding was... unwanted to say the least. Unnerving and 'frag it all to the Pit' might be closer in accuracy. His body was what anyone human would call factory new. If he was outgunned and out-armed from the beginning, what with the rest of the fraggers fiddling around with their bodies, then Will had a lot bigger issues to worry about than he'd thought at first. He didn't stand a snowballs chance in the Pit against Starscream, then, not to mention the other two members of the threesome.

Maybe Starscream had picked up on those vague thoughts, maybe it was just a lucky guess, but as he continued his voice was lower, smoother, and had a bit more of that allure in it again – enough to make Will listen despite the best of his efforts and enough to make his Seeker-part freeze in their mind.

_Haven't you wondered about the gifts of my trine, youngling? Haven't you wondered why you were not sparked with our abilities? Our kind was perfection when compared to the worthless ground-pounders but that perfection had been left unchallenged under the reign of too many Air Commanders. They lacked the ambition for it. They were content in their little world and saw nothing beyond their own circles. _

The voice was... appealing and appalling at once, sent a shiver through his body even under the heat of the desert sun and still he couldn't keep from listening. There was something in the back of his mind – _Ironhide, familiar, determined, angry – _but the feeling was lost in the sound of Starscream's words as they made their way through his mind with a persistence that Will found himself disturbingly reluctant to fight.

Ratchet, with far more experience and a lot less reservations, had none that reluctance and the sound of his voice through the bond was met by silent relief from Will – maybe it was Ratchet's own former bonds with the breed, maybe it was just the medic's relentless stubbornness at work but whatever it was, Will was grateful for an ally.

_You manipulated core programming? _Ratchet didn't wait for a response but continued, anger and disgust overshadowing any hesitation the medic might feel from his previous run-in with the fragger. _Did you decide in your arrogance that your name was Primus, perhaps, or are you so wrapped up in your delusions that you believe yourself capable of controlling the very core of a being? Did you use innocent Seekers for this, **Air Commander**, or were they so caught up in your arrogance that they honestly believed in your skills?_

_And risk abilities like ours in the hand of the unworthy?_ Will could _hear_ Starscream's sneer through their bond at that. _I did nothing I wouldn't accept myself. Our decision was unified, as a proper trine's should be._

_I'm amazed you were tolerated as Air Commander afterwards,_ Ratchet bit back. _Or perhaps that was why some joined Optimus. I wondered about that – Seekers, after all, should be unified, and we both know what it takes to remove oneself from Seeker-kin completely. I was surprised any of them joined us at all. Maybe I should have been surprised that not more of them did._

Will had expected Starscream to snarl back at that but instead the Air Commander's mercurial mood shifted again and the full force of that attention descended on Will once more as Ratchet was dismissed with little more than a thought.

_You are aware of us, youngling. Is this what you want to be? _the voice murmured. _A slave to ground-pounders and fleshlings when you could claim dominion of the sky with others like you? None of us were sparked with our abilities and none of them were ever simply given to us. We were born with limitations and we chose to crush them._

There was something in the back of his mind, the faraway sound of his name, but he could do nothing but mentally stare, feeling like a prey watching the approaching predator and being unable to look away at all.

_Are you aware of Skywarp's limits?_ Starscream asked as his voice and presence shifted again and Will could have sworn he could hear the dark glow he knew would be in Starscream's optics.

Maybe, probably – fifty miles with any kind of accuracy at their best guess, but who _knew_ – and he pushed the thought away before he could even finish it but it still wasn't fast enough.

_That's the thing about limitations, little one, _Starscream continued. _Limits were meant to be broken and technology – technology can be **improved.**_

And that, Will realised too late, was all the warning he got. He was still within the range of their defences, but only just inside of it and it wouldn't be enough.

There was a sharp crack of displaced air before he could react, red optics and a Seeker's distinctive frame as it materialised just ahead of Will, and then it was _inside_ their defences, but even that wasn't enough. Something hit him hard enough to make his processors reel and the world spin frantically around them, sky and sand and sky, and his instincts did the only thing a young, inexperienced Seeker could do - they reacted instantly to do whatever they could to slow him down rather than risk gunning the engine and send them straight into the ground at Mach two, but that took time and time was what they didn't have.

The air cracked again, the world warped around him, and then there was nothing but sand and the brief, terrified thought from the Seeker that they were out of time and this would _hurt-_

- And then the world went black as they hit the dunes at close to two hundred miles an hour and merciful unconsciousness took over.


	44. Chapter 38

**A/N:** I've had the end scene of this chapter and one specific line stuck in my mind since... pretty much the moment plot started to sneak into the fic, I think. It just took quite a few more chapters to get to it than I had expected *cough*

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Will came back online to a world of sand. They had transformed at some point – when or how Will didn't know and didn't remember and didn't honestly care as he used his claws for stability and worked on autopilot to move into something resembling a kneeling position. Mildly more dignified than face-down in the sand, at least. Something in his body felt sore – no surprise, considering that they'd crashed – but the automatic status update he got on the condition of their body half a second later wasn't as bad it could have been, although still bad enough as it was. They had been travelling at low-velocity and the angle had been enough to take some of the stress of their impact. Offline communication system – from Skywarp's little trick or something else, he didn't know. Three point eight minutes spent offline and their location was a good hundred and fifty miles away from the small dot on their screen that marked the last position his systems had of his hopefully still-airborne team-mates and made him blind to all else but the need to see them safe.

He reached out before he could think about it, his own situation pushed aside in favour of his bond with Ironhide. If someone wanted him dead, he wouldn't have woken up; to Will and the Seeker both that meant that their closest mate had priority now.

_'Hide?_

The response was emotions and flickers of images rather than words - worry, annoyance, anger_ -_ and while it was enough to let him know that their mate was safe for the moment, it also brought with it a dawning sense of dread.

The connection was... muted, affected by distance in a way that he knew it shouldn't be; as if the bond was weakened or something was blocking it out-

- And the dread settled hard in his spark as the last of the status reports flooded in and his processors returned to full speed and managed to focus on more than just his immediate surroundings and his mate.

He didn't need to see the three dots on his still-functioning close range scanner to know what was there. The presence that weighed heavily on his spark gave all the confirmation he needed. It was familiar in a way that was unnerving, overrode all else in a response he had no control over, and his hands flexed compulsively in the sand.

His Seeker part was even worse off – it was frozen somewhere between abject fear and awe, with the clear lack of just about anything even remotely lust-related about it all letting Will know beyond any doubt that the thing wanted to be there about as much as Will himself did... and moreover that it wouldn't be of any help at all unless it somehow managed to get a grip on itself and right now, it was all that Will could do to keep _himself_ from doing something stupid.

Maybe he should feel more afraid than he did but the dread and resignation and the lingering sense of loss from the dulled bonds that he had only just gotten used to was enough to drown out fear for the moment. Dread, resignation... and a marked absence of surprise. Starscream had always been clear about what he wanted and whatever else Will might think about him, he also knew that the Air Commander wouldn't have survived for so long under Megatron's command with an ego like that if he didn't have the skills to back it up.

_You always knew it would come to this,_ the small bit of common sense and realism he still possessed whispered in the back of his mind.

_That doesn't mean I have to like it._

The bit of common sense fell silent as the presence behind Will flared brighter – impatient fraggers but that wasn't really a surprise when you were dealing with Seekers – and then he forced himself to ignore the assorted minor issues his systems were nagging him about and stood and turned with as much grace and determination as he could manage when he'd just crash-landed in a sandbox.

The Seeker-part was still petrified. Will wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not.

He was greeted by the expected sight of Starscream's tattooed self and the other two-thirds of the Command Trine and the presence that had seemed overwhelming before came flooding back with all the more intensity and burned out the last bits of reason that remained. Every instinct in his body told him to submit, every bit of Pit-spawned coding demanded he show the proper awe and reverence to the divine creature before him... and Starscream, goddamn pest of a Seeker that he was, fragging well _knew_ it, too. The unholy glow in his eyes was enough to make every bit of human instinct he had left bristle – not the best state of mind for a fight, _really_ not the best thing when he had to keep a somewhat level head and stall for as long as he could until backup arrived, but it was all he had and it was enough to lift a bit of the haze.

"_Will._"

Starscream made the glyph that was his Seeker-given name sound like a caress in a way it never had over long distance communication. All dark promise and dominance in a way that made the non-existent skin of his human side crawl and the Seeker stir in interest from its awed terror and quite suddenly and unwanted Will understood in a way he had never really grasped before just how much 'Air Commander' meant to a Seeker... and Starscream, whatever else he might be, had every personality trait required of the position in abundance.

He should probably respond, Will's still-hazy mind realised after long seconds, still struggling against whatever the frag Starscream was doing to him. Anger demanded he toss an insult right back – and while he didn't know enough of the Seeker-language to use that, Cybertronian had _plenty_ of insults to spare – but a flicker of sanity prevailed a moment later.

Back-up. There was back-up coming and he had to stall. It would be a cold day in the Pit before he was going to be respectful to the psychotic pile of scrap metal but maybe, just maybe, the insults could wait. If nothing else, he wasn't sure his Seeker-side would even let him voice them.

In the end he stayed stubbornly silent. Starscream's expression hardened for all of half a second before that unholy glow reappeared - used to dealing with a lot more stubborn Seekers than Will, probably, based on what little he knew of the other two of the Command Trine. Or maybe they were just enough of a novelty that he wasn't going to offline them at the first sign of insubordination to his Air Commander self.

Will felt like a bug under a microscope. It wasn't a feeling he particularly enjoyed, especially not when Starscream was at the other end of it.

"Who were your creators, youngling?"

That wasn't an area Will knew enough about to even try to make up a lie, even if he'd had any sort of coherence left to work with. The Seeker stirred uneasily in his mind, uncomfortable with that line of questioning, and Will kept his mouth firmly shut.

Red optics gave him a long look and the presence that still laid heavily on his mind focused and turned sharper as it tested itself against Will's stubbornness and the Seeker's still-terrified indecision.

"Who left you in Prime's hands? Unlike the fleshlings and the worthless ground-pounders, I am not a fool. You are too young to ever have been permitted to leave Cybertron and you were clearly not raised among your proper kind. Your landing was laughable."

"My landing would have been a lot better if someone hadn't fragged up my trajectory," Will bit back before those previous few bits of remaining common sense could stop him.

If he'd hoped to annoy the fragger, however stupid that might have been, he would have been disappointed as Starscream's only visible response to that was a satisfied expression that made Will itch to put a Sabot-round or two through his faceplates to remove it.

"So it speaks." Starscream glanced at Skywarp at his side before he turned his full attention back to Will. "A Seeker-raised youngling would have been trained to land properly even after the interference of my trine-mate. Who left you in Prime's hands? _Who took you from your kin?_"

The Seeker in his mind drew back with a series of small, startled, unvoiced clicks and for a moment Will felt nothing as much as sorry for it. It was an untrained, inexperienced kid put up against the being that every part of its programming said was its supreme commander and should be obeyed without question but which it knew just as well would offline its mates slowly and painfully if given half the chance - and would relish that chance, too.

With nothing to say, Will just raised his head slightly and glared right back. Stalling for time was easier said than done when you were up against Starscream.

Backup had been a hundred and fifty miles away. If - _if_ - they had been able to pinpoint his position instantly and turned immediately, that was fifteen minutes... but that wasn't counting the air-drop or anything Starscream might have up his sleeve. All he could be grateful for was that they hadn't moved him even further away and for a moment he wondered where Megatron was. That fragger could fly, too. Did he even know what his pet Air Commander was up to or was he stupid enough to think Starscream wouldn't turn the situation into his own advantage?

The pressure on his mind persisted and the distinct sense of loss from his bonds was worse than he had imagined it would be, a dull, twisting ache in his spark where the connections should have been. He liked those bonds. He _needed_ those bonds. For all that they were a pain to deal with and a headache more often than not, he had grown to rely on them to a degree that frankly scared him... and now they weren't there.

The flash of panic could have been himself, could have been the Seeker, but it was enough to block out Starscream for a brief, few seconds.

_'HIDE._

The only response he got was a flicker of affirmation and reassurance and silent promise and then the connection was blocked out again and Starscream's optics glowed brighter. He knew, then. The fragger _knew._ It was just a matter of how much he was able to pick up on. Not a nice thought, not in the least, but not one Will had time to linger on.

"Your mates," Starscream said, deceptively calm. "Worthless Autoscum but in lack of any proper potential mates... _acceptable_, for the time, if they know their place." One, two steps closer, made Will feel like hunted prey, and then the fragger stopped again. "You desecrated your wings."

"Says the fragger with the tattoos."

Will's processors had apparently decided not to do anything about the autopilot his mouth seemed to be on because the words were out before Will could stop them. Not that he _wanted_ to, to be fair – it was a whole new level of stupid to insult Starscream when you were out-numbered and out-gunned by the Command Trine, but the way Starscream's optics seemed to narrow and the glow darkened brought a sadistic kind of satisfaction, too. The fragger had put them in this situation and while he couldn't quite give Starscream the piece of his mind that he wanted, he wasn't going to roll over and beg, either.

The response came a second later, unheard but most definitely felt as the heavy presence around them sharpened and pain flared through their mind. Brief, sharp, blinding, and then it was over as quietly as it had appeared and while Will had only just about enough composure to stay still and not show any kind of reaction, Starscream clearly knew, anyway.

"Your... _caretakers_ have failed in your upbringing, youngling." Back to that familiar Starscream-sneer – at least that was something Will could deal with. "My _markings_ signify my status as Air Commander and my superiority of all on this pathetic ball of dirt the fleshlings call a planet_. You _desecrated your wings with markings of slavery to the Autoscum and worthless organics."

And then Starscream straightened slightly and the mercurial mood shifted right back to thoughtful and something that Will strongly suspected was what passed for 'reasonable' in Starscream-land.

"The Hatchet would know better than to mark a Seeker against its will. I suppose Prime... _convinced_ you or you felt some irrational desire for your mates' approval. A commendable loyalty. Commendable but misplaced. A true ground-bound mate to a Seeker would know its place at your side and under your dominance. A true mate would not allow you to mutilate yourself. The Hatchet, at least, should know the stupidity of youth and have reined you in. A guardian in the place of the absent ones that Prime took from you."

_And there we go with the baiting._ Will knew it, Starscream knew it, probably even the Seeker in all its hazy-minded glory knew it, but he couldn't quite stop the brief anger he felt, not fast enough to hide it.

"Did they keep you in stasis?" Starscream's voice shifted again, dark, demanding, and compelling, and Will ruthlessly suppressed the shudder he felt. "Perhaps Prime had little to do with it after all. Even Megatron would not take a Seeker youngling from its caretakers, we taught him the cost of that. Did his ground-pounder spies do what Prime could not? Mirage? Jazz? Or were you sparked by Autoscum Seekers that were too blinded by the righteousness of their cause to honour the kin that shaped their worthless selves?"

Starscream could be a grade-A bastard when he put his mind to it and right now, he clearly did. If baiting and pretend-kinship didn't work then maybe just plain provoking that Seeker-temper would. Make him say more than he'd want to in between snarling at Starscream and calling the slagger every name in the book.

It would probably have worked, too, if it hadn't been for the one saving grace that they had never claimed Optimus Prime for a mate or bonded, and that while the Seeker had been impressed with his fighting skills and would fight for him in turn, that was about as far as it went anymore. The fantasies were almost gone and what interest it showed anymore in their Prime was mostly superficial.

Will admired Optimus. The Seeker was for the most part indifferent and as a result didn't care in the least one way or another about their Prime or the names of mechs that had been offlined long before it had opened its optics for the first time.

"Not much of an _Autobot_, are you?" Starscream sneered but this time Will got the impression that the sneer was aimed at his faction rather than himself. "The trained cannon you call a mate would have killed for that insult. The rest of them are little better. Hypocrisy of the finest order."

He wasn't going to rise to that bit of bait, either. He knew just fine that Ironhide was trigger-happy even on his calmer days and the rest was standard Decepticon propaganda.

Going by the darkening of Starscream's optics in clear displeasure, Will's continued silence was starting to make him more than a bit annoyed. The Air Commander watched him closely as their silence stretched on and then he moved, faster than Will or the Seeker had any chance to avoid.

One hand locked like a vise on the sensitive edge of his left wing and sent a flare of pain through his body and panic through his Seeker part while the other dug into the myriad of wires that ran along his neck and tightened to the verge of doing real damage.

The Seeker froze in sudden sense of self-preservation. Will froze with it, vivid images of just what those clawed fingers could do to his throat passing through his mind. It was enough that the thought of having Starscream so close and so dominant didn't even cross the Seeker's mind. Will had been exposed to more fantasies of Starscream than he cared to count but right there and right then, the Seeker was too terrified of the Air Commander to even consider it.

"I want answers, youngling," Starscream hissed. "You _will_ provide them."

Red optics glowed impossibly bright and Will felt the presence surge around him, heavy and suffocating as it sent Energon flowing fast and panicked through his body in a fight-or-flight response. The world was gone, vanished around them in the overwhelming presence that was Starscream and whatever else they might have joked about on base, it was painfully clear that Starscream had reached his position purely by skill and ambition.

If there was a Decepticon Seeker out there who could take on Starscream and live to tell the tale, Will desperately hoped they would never, ever meet it.

His own Seeker had been bad at times but it had never been malevolent. It had never seriously tried to claim control through sheer force alone. It had been young, it had been weak, and it had been innocent.

Starscream was none of those things.

The presence grew stronger and with it came the sense of drowning, of losing their sense of self where their shields were slipping and forced them back, bit by unrelenting bit.

There was fear from the Seeker, the bone-deep sensation that this was not how it should have gone, this was not the Starscream it wanted, this was not its Air Commander, but all Will could really focus on was bloody-minded stubbornness and horribly calm acceptance that it would not be enough.

Stalling hadn't brought him fifteen minutes, had brought him ten or twelve at the most even counting the time he had been out of it, and whatever he had left of the countdown would be far longer than he could hold back Starscream. A brief, desperate thought at his weapons systems revealed them already out of his control, from Starscream or Pit-spawned coding or whatever the _frag_ was going on to take their mind apart piece by piece-

- And for the second time in as many months Will Lennox found himself backed into a corner with no escape and nothing more in the way of backup this time than an impossibly young Seeker-spark that had no place in the sort of war they fought.

Whatever panic he might have felt from himself or the Seeker was gone, buried under dread at the thought of Starscream going after his family, his _mates_, and in the end replaced by tired resignation as his mental defences crumbled one by one.

Maybe that was why he noticed the brush against his... spark or mind or processors. He wasn't sure and didn't have the focus to spare to find out, but it was strange and alien and decidedly not Starscream in the almost-regret he felt from it.

**You know I can't order you to do this. All I can ask you to do is trust me.**

The voice was not Seeker and not Cybertronian but familiar in a way that Will had all but forgotten – light and that voice and a warped, warped sense of humour and gratitude – and the brief anger he felt was gone again as entirely too many pieces clicked into place.

William Lennox had a list a mile long of grievances to take up with Primus but in the end he didn't voice it. The way things were going, he'd get plenty of chances to do that soon enough, anyway, and if the twisted fragger they called a god had gone through all that trouble to put them there, who were they really to argue?

_If they get hurt from this..._ He started the threat but didn't finish – the presence was gone and only Starscream's incessant hammering on his mind persisted in a way that he wasn't sure how long he could stand before it started to mess with the last of his sanity, too.

His defences were crumbling, the Seeker could do little to help, and in the grand scheme, what good would thirty seconds or a minute do him? Starscream had his trine with him, both of them vicious on the battle field, and backup felt impossibly far away.

He could watch his defences be torn to pieces along with whatever bit of his mind he had invested in that or he could use what little control he had left and do it himself. Starscream's terms or his own terms. When he looked at it that way, there was never a decision to make at all.

Trust and a warped god's schemes had very little to say in it. In the end, some twisted sense of obstinance was all that really mattered.

The Seeker shifted in their mind, a whisper of acceptance, permission, and muted fear, and Will sent it back to the shadow it had found – there was little protection to be found in anything there but maybe Starscream would have burned through the worst of his anger by the time he found it.

Maybe.

He held his craftsmanship in his mind for a moment longer, cracked shields and crumbling walls; watched Starscream's presence as it consumed the world behind it...

… And then he let go.


	45. Chapter 39

**A/N:** Rereading this, it's still got some rough patches. After spending an absurd amount of time getting this teeny, tiny little chapter to cooperate at all, I think I'll call it good enough *cough*

* * *

There was no time to react, no time for anything but brace himself for an impact that never came. Whatever Will had expected – death, blinding pain, instant insanity – it didn't come. Instead he felt himself falling hard and fast into something heavy and suffocating and with the one, overriding demand of _yield_.

Bonding with Ironhide and Ratchet had been give-and-take, as close to equals as they could be with neither Will nor the Seeker having anything in the way of experience. Spark-merging with Ironhide had been terrifying and overwhelming and perfect in a way that made his spark sing and even more than the bonds, that had been a connection of equals and continued to be a give-or-take thing, because there was no such thing as offering only part of who you were when you offered someone your soul.

There was no such thing with Starscream. It was a mockery of a bond, used for control and dominance rather than actual bonding, and every instinct in Will's body responded to that feeling of wrongness that penetrated their mind. There was an infinitely small connection under Will's control that bound Starscream to him, little more than a whisper of something as subroutines somewhere in the back of his mind worked desperately to fill out the many, many holes in their knowledge with some of Starscream's experience, however unlikely they were to survive for long enough to use it, but most of the bond was in Starscream's hands and he abused it ruthlessly.

Maybe it was an Air Commander thing, maybe it was a Starscream thing – Will didn't know but almost had to assume the latter – but whatever it was, it was painfully effective as the fragger seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he sank his claws into Will's memories. Something he had tried before, undoubtedly – it felt too much like competence bred from experience and something in Will's mind shuddered at the thought.

Wrong. This was all_ wrong_.

And then that thought was gone again as Starscream struck and it felt like every sensor in his head flared brightly in pain as mental crawls raked through his memories with no thought of care or finesse. Starscream's forced connection was nowhere as deep as the spark-merge with Ironhide but it was more than enough to get the job done. Brute force made up for the rest as Starscream crushed the last, weak remaining defences and went through the memories behind them with impossible speed.

Images became organised chaos around them, thoughts and memories and things Will had never known he even remembered – sharing with Ironhide had been daunting enough; what Starscream was doing had his human part demanding they damn well put up a fight whether it made a difference or not but something stopped him before the thought had ever even solidified into words. Sure, reason told him that fighting wouldn't make a bit of difference other than get them killed in the process and that Starscream would get what he wanted one way or another, but he had never listened to reason much. The half-formed thought of using the chance to attack from the inside and do whatever damage he could through their bond remained just that – a half-formed thought held back by something stronger than Will's own stubbornness.

Starscream clearly felt that - _satisfaction_ was the sole emotion across their bond for a long, painful second - and then the memories picked up speed and there was little Will could do to keep even his thoughts coherent anymore. It was too much, too fast, too disorganised, and if they got out of this alive he was going to go into recharge and not wake up again until the Pit-spawned hangover they were bound to end up with was well and truly gone.

Will had heard of seeing your life flash before your eyes but this was just ridiculous.

Then Starscream's attention was completely on those memories and Will felt the bond settle in his spark in a way that felt vaguely nauseating as he got at least a small bit of control back. Every Seeker instinct told him that this was the Air Commander and that it wasn't just right but an honour to have Starscream's attention given to him like that. His human part would have had some choice words to say about that but the same unwanted something in his mind reined him in again.

If it hadn't been for the fact that his Seeker-part felt as unsettled about it all as Will did, he would have expected that pain-in-the-aft coding it came with had been behind it. As it was, though, Will was getting that sinking feeling again that something was very, very wrong.

He should be angry or panicking – he should be feeling_ something_ other than mostly-numbness, with Starscream rummaging around in his very soul and about to stumble across some highly incriminating memories at any moment and with a missile through their spark being the most merciful result of what Will could imagine Starscream might settle for.

It might have been something of Starscream's doing but somehow he doubted it. Everything Starscream had done had been uncomfortable at best. The thing in his mind that kept his aggression reined in was... different, numbness more than anything and every bit as unwelcome as their fragger of an Air Commander.

He felt it the moment Starscream reached the first of the memories that mattered.

Their mental world froze with Starscream's second of shock. One, two seconds to consider what he had seen and for the memories to register, seconds more for shock to fade enough for anger to take over, and then a maelstrom descended on Will's mind and lit up their world with bright, blinding pain. Memories went past with impossible speed, too fast for Will or the terrified youngling in his mind to keep up with, but Starscream _knew_ now, knew what he wanted and the pace picked up, dizzying and downright painful. Whatever protection being a Seeker had offered him, it was clearly not going to matter anymore.

Glimpses of Ironhide, Sarah, Ratchet – lingering on the medic, on long explanations that only made the fury grow brighter; memories of bonding and spark-merging and claiming a _fleshling_ for a mate, and even if Will had planned it all for the sole purpose of pissing Starscream off, he couldn't have done a better job.

If there was anything rational left in Starscream's mind at all, Will didn't notice it... and neither, obviously, did Starscream.

_Fleshling. A worthless **fleshling!**_

Ironhide had sent pain through their bond once – not for long, nothing strong, but enough to prove that it was possible. That had only been intended to get his attention, never to cause any sort of damage.

Starscream had no such desires.

Something constricted around his spark and sent a flare of panic through every responsive system he had left. Heavy pressure and too little room to contain it and constricting further with every flare of it that Will felt; blind panic as their spark drew desperately on energy-reserves to fight back - and then, blessedly, he could _breathe_ again and he was only vaguely aware of the rasping of his vents as his systems demanded every bit of cooling air they could offer.

Will was surprised they were still alive to do that at all. Judging by Starscream's fury, so was he. The fragger had stopped short of killing them and Will got the very clear impression that it hadn't been supposed to happen like that, that whatever had happened had been against Starscream's best efforts-

- And a moment later it clicked as the maelstrom around them continued and his Seeker-part's knowledge merged with his own to offer fragments of memories that he had done his best to deny.

Can't hurt a bondmate, can't kill a bondmate, and until they raised a weapon against Starscream and proved that their choice of faction had been purely theirs, their Air Commander would consider them just a misguided youngling and _that_ crime had never been punished by offlining by any Seeker. Not even Starscream.

Programming ensured that nothing short of the threat of death of someone they considered theirs would let Will go after Starscream with intent to kill. Starscream had just learned the same lesson about his reluctant new bondmate. It didn't matter _what_ they were, then - human or Seeker, the programming didn't care; all that seemed to matter was the bond, the spark, and the body and programming that marked his build as a Seeker and _that_-

… _that_, Will could work with.

He offered a toothy, mental smirk in return and that was all the warning Starscream got before Will struck back with the only thing he could - the newly created bond that still sat uneasily in his spark where his proper mates should have been.

Can't kill a bonded unless it's a life-and-death situation, can't kill a spark-merged mate at all, and going by that logic... the stronger the bond, the stronger the compulsion to keep them safe. Will was already stuck with those instincts as it was. It would only be fair to level the field a little and make Starscream deal with the same headache, too.

His Seeker-part agreed with surprising fierceness - maybe because it was its Air Commander, maybe out of protective urges, maybe because it craved a little bit of payback just as much as Will did right then - but it agreed and added its own vicious force behind the attack. Will had only vaguely been able to feel Ironhide's pre-existing bond with Ratchet when they had spark-merged, hadn't been able to feel Ratchet's other bonds at all when he had bonded with him - it could have been a conscious decision or because he had been too out of it to really notice or because it was something he hadn't been supposed to feel at all but right now, Will wasn't about to let minor things like that get in their way.

Starscream already knew about his bonds so there would be nothing to lose by revealing them. If Will could force through enough of that same programmed inability to harm a mate or a bonded to affect Starscream, it would be worth it, too. Any kind of hesitation could be enough time to get a target-lock or get the hell out of the way. Anything past that would just be an added bonus as far as Will was concerned.

Starscream's defences were up in a moment but Will didn't care. It occurred to him that they shouldn't be able to do this, didn't have the skills or the strength or much of anything else to back them, but sheer stubbornness pushed that thought aside. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that the numbness was fading fast – programming, Primus' games, whatever it had been – and he used that to his full advantage now.

Will ignored the last, feeble bits of common sense that reminded him of how deeply it would bond them to Starscream and then forced the memories through their bond - bright and fierce enough to make their spark flare and send a surge of sheer pleasure through their systems.

Ironhide; ancient, brutal, _loyal_ – everything a mate should be, everything they could ever want in a comrade-in-arms and bonded. Someone to have their back in battle and stand by their side when the enemy struck, someone who would take on an army alone if that was what it took to keep what was theirs safe, someone who understood them enough to agree to the promise that Will had made him give and someone strong enough to _keep_ it, if it ever came to that.

Memories of Ratchet followed closely after, small bits of coding following along to force their way through Starscream's defences – nothing Will knew the first thing about and nothing he cared about either at the moment, lost in the presence of the medic instead; solid, skilled, and relentless, with an echo of Seeker mannerism that sang to the Seeker parts of Will's mind and physical enough that his human side agreed as well – someone who knew what they were dealing with, knew what they needed, and who would be there through every step of it that he could while he tried to teach their Seeker-human their way of life.

He felt Starscream lash back, blinding pain tearing at his mind but it was lost in a haze of blind determination. They were too far gone to stop, too far to care in the least what Starscream threw at them, and if they lived through it at all, he _knew_ they would regret it later but right now it didn't matter in the least.

Memories of Sarah burned through the haze in his mind, small and fragile and impossibly strong, and _this_ was what a Seeker's mate should be. The spark was right, even if she was human, the determination and willingness to do whatever it took to keep family and kin and mates safe – _come back alive,_ the memories whispered and he knew without shadow of doubt that whatever he chose, whatever he became, whatever oaths he might break in the process – as long as he came back alive to her she wouldn't care. Loyalties were fleeting. Mate and kin were what mattered.

And then, as sudden as it had begun, Starscream's presence vanished back into the outside world and forced Will's with it. It was vicious, painful, and mercifully quick and then the world was sand again, kneeling in a desert dune and unaware that he had moved at all, and every part of his mind was still trying to regain some sort of balance from the new, unwanted bond.

Brutal fingers gripped at his throat, tightened-

- And stopped.

Will could feel the tremors in Starscream's hand as he fought to finish the motion and end their lives, the compulsive twitches as he almost succeeded only to fail at the last possible second – if it had been anyone else, any other situation Will would have laughed but even he had some measure of self-preservation and knew that maybe, just maybe provoking the unstable Air Commander might not be the brightest idea.

For once he chose to listen... until the moment Starscream snarled in disgust and aimed his Gatling gun straight at their spark, pure murder in his optics as he watched them.

"_What did you do to me, fleshling!_" he demanded.

And William Lennox, safe in the knowledge that whatever had decided to fuck up his life had found a brand new playmate to join him, did the only reasonable thing he could.

He laughed.


	46. Chapter 40

**A/N: **_How _is it possible to get writer's block when the ending is all plotted out? It's a conspiracy, I swear.

* * *

NEST had never relied purely on weaponry as a way to keep enemy Seekers away from their C-17s. Starscream's trine was fast, vicious, and well-trained in hit-and-run tactics. To get a target lock on them was hard enough on a good day, never mind actually doing damage to the flying pests. Nobody with NEST would turn down the chance to shoot one of them out of the sky if opportunity showed itself but however much they hated the fact, they also accepted that human-built weapons were not the way to go against those things.

Instead the massive, vulnerable cargo planes were protected by the same kind of scrambling field that surrounded Diego Garcia that would fry any sort of technologically advanced weapon not identified as a friendly one and – more importantly – be a general pest to any unknown or hostile Cybertronian that might decide to try their luck. It wouldn't kill them but it would rattle their processors enough to put them at a disadvantage. Ironhide had tried it out on himself a few times and found himself singularly unimpressed with his ability to aim under that sort of influence. Experience had shown them that the 'Con Seekers had obviously agreed and that more than made up for the added weight of those defences and the room they took up in the cargo bay.

In retrospect, they had become lax. In retrospect, they had become complacent. Starscream wouldn't have survived as Air Commander if he didn't have skills and Megatron was not forgiving of failure.

In retrospect, they should have remembered and Ironhide realised that with cold clarity as Skywarp dropped out of thin air mere feet from the edge of the scambling field. There was no time to act, no time to do anything but watch on his scanners as Skywarp struck Will and sent them both spinning towards the ground below. He heard the scream of Will's engines more through the bond than anything else, saw two dots approach the edge of the scrambling field and felt the sickening lurch through the bond as well as the world warped and the dots jumped with it; blind panic and nothing but a wall of sand ahead-

- And then it was gone and there was only a dull echo of pain where their bond should have been.

Will couldn't shield worth slag on a good day, Ironhide knew, much less when there were high-strung emotions at play. Which meant that whatever had happened, it hadn't been Will's doing.

The whole thing had taken six seconds, from the first displaced bit of air from Skywarp's arrival and until the loss of that bond. Too fast for a target-lock. Too short a time spent inside that field to affect the fragger's systems in the least.

Six seconds and their comm-frequencies exploded in noise as too many voices spoke at once. Ironhide made himself ignore it all – anything important would be spoken by his Prime, anyway – and he instinctively avoided the raw point in his spark where Will's bond should have been as he reached out to his other bondmate.

_Ratchet?_

_Suppressed, not broken, _the medic responded to the question Ironhide didn't need to ask. _Starscream at a guess. He can't break the bond but in close proximity he might be able to suppress it._

Alive, then, Ironhide acknowledged, but that was no guarantee around the flying pests and Ironhide had seen too many times what the Command Trine was capable of. At the most, 'alive' gave them time and Ironhide was enough of a realist to also acknowledge that it most likely would not be enough. He had seen enough to know that the Seeker would stand little chance against Starscream, and the human...

… The human, stubborn to a fault, would take the three-on-one odds if it came to that. Ironhide, admittedly, would have done the same, and he held no delusions that Will would have any better chance of surviving that than Ironhide himself would.

Guilt nagged at the edge of his processors, painful and insistent, but that was at least one thing Ironhide could deal with. Every part of his spark told him he should have done something to keep his spark-merged mate safe but Ironhide had dealt with that before, too. The guilt was irrational – stuck on a cargo plane with nothing in the way of weapons, there was very little he _could_ have done – and the guilt would do nothing but get in the way. If they both got out alive, Ironhide would get the chance to give whatever guilt-fuelled protective processes he had free reign. Until then, their mission had priority.

Even ten minutes ago, he knew, it would have been much harder to simply push aside emotions like that. It was only now that the bond was blocked that he realised just how much the Seeker and its emotions influenced how he thought.

Information flickered through his mind, overlaid with busy comm-frequencies – location, distance, terrain, hostiles, airbornes; three enemy-marked dots that had briefly been three enemy and an ally, and only Will's location had remained as the 'Con fraggers had landed and disappeared from the scanners altogether. They were easy to spot in the air, Ironhide knew. Once on the ground, they had a Pit-spawned ability to vanish completely from anything that tried to track them, human or otherwise. All they had to go on now was the tracking implant in Will's frame and if they lost that signal as well, Ironhide knew they had bigger problems to worry about than a mere location.

A familiar signal appeared on the comm-frequencies and the flood of sound and information fell silent between one second and the next as their Prime spoke.

"_Ratchet?"_

It wasn't a medical situation but in this case, Ironhide suspected they all knew it was Ratchet's area more than anyone's. Their Prime had... _experience_, Ironhide had spark-merged, but Ratchet was the one who had lived with the fraggers and he was the one whose coding had adapted to them and Ironhide knew his own limitations. Seekers would never make sense to him. Even through Will's optics, anything he saw would still be filtered through a ground-bound mech's understanding.

"_Starscream suppressed Will's bonds and his communications systems register as offline, although that part could just as well be Skywarp's doing. We have a location, Optimus... or a point of impact, to be blunt, but at the speed he was going, he should have no serious injuries. We lost track of Starscream and his trine but they will not be far from Will. Starscream wants the influence of a full trine behind him."_

_We have a location,_ Ironhide mentally translated the worlds,_ but no idea of what's happening._

He clearly wasn't the only one who understood that because Robert Epps frowned from his place near Ironhide.

"Time?" the human Commander asked and didn't need to clarify that question.

Ironhide trained an additional few sensors at the man – they had been trained at someone else not too long ago and even if Ironhide was never going to acknowledge it to another living being, some of those sensors still occasionally scanned for a being they would never find again.

"Assuming we changed our course now, fifteen minutes until we would be overhead," he responded.

"And then the air-drop as well," Robert Epps breathed, clearly doing the calculations in his own human processors and not coming up with a result he liked in the least. "_Fuck_."

Nothing Ironhide could argue with, either. Fifteen minutes until air-drop... _if_ they changed their course now.

If.

"Prime?" he asked his own commander and didn't need to spell out the question. Their Prime knew and had probably already considered it and not for the first time Ironhide appreciated that he was a front-liner and weapons specialist and not the Prime. There was an attack to be stopped, Decepticons to be exterminated like the vermin they were, but to split up their forces was not an option with the Command Trine between them and Will. Starscream might be a pest like no other but he was a dangerous pest any way you looked at it.

Between protecting the human compound that was the original target or going after Will, Ironhide had no doubts about what his own personal choice would have been. The spark-merge had merely sealed that fact, and he was grateful it was not his decision to make.

Silence stretched for long seconds and then Optimus Prime made a soft, tired sound. _"My brother was never a fool. Whatever his faults, blindness to the motives of his men was never among them."_

Ironhide heard the familiar sounds of the C-17 around him change minutely as their course changed as well by some unspoken order. It wasn't a decision he was going to argue with but it did leave another problem.

"_And the rest of the 'Cons?"_ Sideswipe asked before Ironhide had the chance – more out of some sense of obligation than any genuine concern, Ironhide suspected. Sideswipe always preferred the challenge of a winged quarry. Like any good front-liner, he wasn't going to turn down the chance to kill any kind of worthless 'Con but Seekers made for a far better chase than a plain old mech.

"_Megatron is not naïve enough to trust in his Second's motivations. If this was merely a way to claim Will without casualties, he would have been there. Rarely has Starscream attempted mutiny as blatantly as this. That, if nothing else, would draw Megatron to his location. Without leadership, the ground-bound Decepticons will have little to gain by attacking. Do not forget that their target was never more than convenient bait."_

Cut and run, then, as soon as the fraggers realised they'd been left on their own with no air cover. They might be worthless 'Cons but at least their cowardice and lack of loyalty worked in the Autobots' favour sometimes. They had enough of a pain to deal with in three Seekers and Megatron himself... and Will, Ironhide's processors supplied, but he crushed that thought ruthlessly. He would keep his promise if it came to that. Until then, he wasn't going to linger on it.

But something had obviously whispered through his bonds, anyway, because he felt Ratchet's presence through it a moment later.

_You can't extinguish a spark you merged with._

Ironhide didn't dignify that with any of the many responses he could have - _I'm not a medic; I don't care; I gave my __**word**_ - and Ratchet didn't get the chance to speak again before the comm-frequency flared to life again with a human voice.

"_Prime, sir?"_ Communications, Ironhide's processors supplied, and purposefully ignored Ratchet's silent, demanding insistence that he listen in favour of the human's words. _"Megatron is airborne – he just took off from the 'Cons' point of ambush, heading in Starscream's direction. ETA is seventeen minutes."_

That kind of timing had to be purposeful planning, because Ironhide did not believe in coincidences when it came to Decepticons.

"Counting the air-drop, that's the same as ours," Epps said, having obviously concluded somewhat of the same. "On purpose?"

The question was directed at no one in particular and it was their Prime's voice that responded. _"From Megatron's side? No. From Starscream's? Perhaps. He must know that he has crossed the line between dissent and mutiny with this. It is not in his nature to risk everything on a single course of action. We can only assume that he took Megatron's reaction into account."_

Or maybe the pest of an Air Commander was just his usual megalomaniac self. They had called Starscream that before, along with every other name in the book, but it was only after being around Will for extended periods of time that Ironhide had understood those snarled words about Starscream hadn't been insults as much as the honest-to-Primus truth. Will was bad enough when the mood struck him. What Ironhide had seen of Starscream's issues left little doubt that the fragger had problems that made even an average Seeker look sane in comparison.

"Maybe the fragger is hoping we'll take out Megatron for him," Ironhide snorted, but he doubted that theory as soon as he voiced it. The 'Cons would be outnumbered and Starscream never got involved in those fights in the first place, much less invited them to visit. Maybe the worthless winged pests planned to take off the moment the battle turned – they sure as frag should know better than to expect any mercy from Ironhide or Sideswipe. There was always the risk that Optimus would have them spare the fraggers but that just meant they would need to kill off the pests before he could give that order. It wouldn't be the first time, either.

And something of that train of thought had obviously reached Ratchet, too, because he felt that familiar presence in his spark again a moment later.

_I wouldn't be so sure about that._ From anyone else, Ironhide would have taken it as a taunt or a challenge but Ratchet's voice and presence was wrong for it; worried and deeply unsettled about something that Ironhide had apparently yet to figure out.

_Ratchet-_

His question was cut off by Ratchet's voice over the comm-frequency, sounding only slightly less concerned than his mental voice had been and not reassuring Ironhide in the least.

"_Ironhide may be right, Optimus. Starscream expects to claim Will. They may be outnumbered but that is not taking into account Will's bonds. Ironhide may be able to target Starscream himself but the question remains whether Will would permit him to. Starscream has never made a secret of his ambition. I believe this is more impulsive than anything he has attempted in the past but it may very well be that he plans to force a confrontation between you and Megatron and then deal with the winner in whatever way he can afterwards. He knows we will come for Will and he knows Megatron will be furious enough to target him without any care for backup. If Megatron won, he might very well be wounded enough that Starscream could offline him. If we won, he would have an edge in Will and his bonds with Ironhide and myself." _

Ironhide was about to object before Ratchet had even finished speaking but the words died before he could voice them. He had already seen how Starscream could affect Ratchet and while Ironhide didn't have the same vulnerability, he did have the spark-merge. They were both compromised; the only question was to which degree they would be affected.

Robert Epps frowned at the edge of Ironhide's awareness and sensors focused on him a second before his words carried across Ironhide's personal comm-frequency.

"You know that's assuming Will doesn't tell the fucker to go screw himself."

"He is still alive," Ironhide responded and remained on the closed frequency. It was a matter between comrades-in-arms and team mates, and it was an argument that was unnecessary among the Autobots themselves. They already knew the arguments Ironhide presented to his human charge. "My bond with him is blocked, not destroyed. Starscream has little patience for anything. His response to William's refusal to submit would be immediate offlining. If that bond still exists when we approach, we have to assume he is at least compromised."

Anger took over from Robert Epps' frown and his body tensed under Ironhide's attention. "You don't know that. He could be unconscious. He could be stalling for time. You can't just assume he's guilty until proven otherwise! He's your fucking _mate!_"

And Ironhide, experienced with an endless lifetime of war, kept his voice low and even and let a whisper of regret show in his response.

"He is. He is also a Seeker. We have experience with them. You do not."

He turned the majority of his attention back to the main comm-frequency before Epps could argue but a brief check of his memory files revealed that he had missed nothing he did not already know. Starscream was a pest and in line for extermination as far as Ironhide was concerned, Megatron was little better, and Will...

There was an echo of something in the bond, there and gone again a moment later before Ironhide could offer anything but the _annoyance-worry-anger _that was his current state of being, but it had been there. Still online and still able to reach out, at least, and the small, hopeful part of Ironhide that had never quite been crushed completely liked to think that Will at Starscream's side wouldn't have cared enough to try and reach out in the first place.

He was online, at least. For now.

Part of his processors were still trained on the comm-frequencies and the world around them, but the rest shifted to focus on the darkness where the bond had been and wait silently for any sort of sign of Will's status... in whatever form it might come.

For now, that was all he could do.


	47. Chapter 41

_"What did you do to me, fleshling!"_

If Will had been saner, more stable, less _Seeker_, he would have worried about the Gatling gun and the Air Commander that watched him with a murderous, red glow in his optics and he wouldn't have laughed in the face of Starscream's anger. Then again, if Will had been any saner and any less unstable, he probably would have cracked long before it ever could have come to that point and possibly, that would have been okay as well.

As it was, though, when it all came down to it he matched his Seeker side trait-by-trait in impulsiveness, instability, and the strong defiance that had brought them to that point in the first place and however much they were trine-mates and two parts of a whole now, it was the first time Will hadn't dreaded meeting Starscream in person. His Seeker half could have caved and submitted but it hadn't - it had been terrified and in way over its metallic little head, but it had still snapped out of it and backed him when it counted. It had been its true trial by fire but it had passed with flying colours and the very un-Seekerish, toothy smirk they offered Starscream was as much Will as it was the Seeker.

The rough part was over, the fear and uncertainty and the bone-deep dread. They might still end up dead, Will knew, but at least it wouldn't be under Starscream's command and forced to fight on the Decepticons' side and everything considered, that was okay, too.

"_We_ didn't do a fragging thing. _We_ didn't ask for this. You forced the bond and you get to deal with what goes with it."

Starscream's fingers twitched compulsively again but the pain of bullets piercing armour that Will had expected never came. The fragger honestly _couldn't_ kill him, then – Will had had his doubts, still did even now, but the proof was right in front of him and going by the rage in Starscream's optics, Will would have been a dead Seeker if the fragger had in any way been able to pull that trigger.

"You did something to me, fleshling. _What did you do?_"

Will wasn't sure if Starscream believed that repeating the words enough would somehow magically make the knowledge appear. Rational thought didn't seem to be high on the list of a Seeker's strengths when it got sufficiently pissed off.

Whatever Starscream's reasons, it wouldn't work and if the fragger had given it actual thought, he would know that, too. Even his own Seeker part was honestly bewildered by it. They were bonded now. Not trine-mates but close enough that it wouldn't make that much different in a bond. What they knew, Starscream knew, and their most esteemed Air Commander should know that, too. Even Will and his Seeker-part did.

"You went through my head," Will bit back. "Through _our_ head. Did you see anything in there to explain it? _You _ forced that bond. If that gave you performance issues when it comes to us, that's nobody's fault but your own."

And maybe they had pushed it too far again because the Gatling gun vanished again and clawed fingers locked around vulnerable lines and wires in their throat once more, and the glow in Starscream's optics became a glacial red between one moment and the next as he pulled Will to his feet.

"I will offline you," Starscream promised in a low, deadly voice. "I will destroy you and send you to the Pit as nothing more than worthless ashes."

"Then do it," Will mocked right back, against every bit of common sense and objection from his Seeker half. "And if you can't offline one unarmed Autobot, then tell your trine-mates to do it. We didn't ask for this any more than you did. Do you think that Seeker in my head was _happy_ waking up to find itself sharing its existence with a human? Do you think I _wanted_ to come back like this? That either of us wanted to be the rope in the little game of tug-of-war you slags and the 'Bots have going on?"

Something obviously hit right with that because Starscream's optics flared and the grip on his throat tightened... but his trine-mates remained where they were and something nagged in the back of Will's processors as it tried to make everything that had happened make sense.

"You were _blessed_ by Primus, you pathetic waste of Energon!" Starscream hissed. "You should have been crushed beneath our might like the pitiful organic you were and you were brought back like this. _We_ are the true heirs of Primus. We did not fall mercy to the whims of the Allspark. We did not need to _beg_ permission for the creation of a new spark. The ground-pounders will fall with none to replace their numbers but when the last one of them is gone, we will still remain. We have the freedom of flight and the gift of Primus to give spark to our own heirs. Out of all on Cybertron, _we alone_ were deemed worthy of life."

Seekers needed to interface, Seekers had excess energy, Seekers needed that excess energy to be able to create the spark of their future sparklings, and Seekers were _proud_ of that, and if that was the case then-

"-Where are the sparklings?" Will asked as something clicked. There was still something he couldn't grasp, something important, but at least there was something now he could put words to and they made sense as well in a way that he would never be able to really explain. "How many of you are left? Twenty? Thirty? By the time Optimus and Megatron have settled the war, there won't be enough of you left to do anything other than roll over and wait to die."

Starscream made a disgusted sound and then let go of Will.

"Would _you_ knowingly create a sparkling in a time of war, _Autobot?_ Is that how far you have fallen?"

Images of Annabelle flickered through Will's mind; small and fragile but with so much life, and he tried to imagine what it could have been like in a different world, with burned cities and crushed armies and a life of war and battle, and a small part of his spark twisted painfully in acknowledgement of his newest bond-mate's point.

An hour ago they wouldn't have talked like that. An hour ago Will wouldn't have made an honest attempt to see it from Starscream's point of view. An hour ago the fragger would have taken that shot and Will would have been dead.

An hour ago they hadn't been bond-mates and Will wasn't sure if he should feel sick or fascinated by the thought of it all.

_Air Commander,_ the Seeker part of his murmured in response and for once, Will actually understood.

Whatever else Starscream was, whatever the long list of atrocities he had committed, he was still the Air Commander and his first and foremost duty had always been to the Seekers... even if it sometimes ended up looking like anything but.

Will was a Seeker and for now seen as... a confused youngling, probably, by Starscream's programming. Whatever tests they had been put through they had apparently passed, and that put Will under the handy little category of something to be protected. It also explained why Skywarp and Thundercracker had yet to make any move towards them. They were trine-mates. They knew what was going on in Starscream's head. If Starscream had been capable of genuinely wishing him dead, he would have been.

As it was, he was still standing. That, at least, was a start.

Starscream took his silence for the agreement that it was – had probably even seen the images in Will's mind, even if that was something Will really didn't want to think about – and clawed hands flexed compulsively again. At least they weren't doing that around Will's neck anymore and to be fair, it seemed like more of an instinctive response than anything. Starscream-issues and Decepticon-morals told him to kill the worthless Autobot while Seeker programming told him to protect a bond-mate and youngling and whatever Will had thought about his brand new programming in the past, right there and then it was worth every second of the headache.

"You were blessed by Primus, _youngling_. Do not throw away that gift on the Prime's words."

"And what's the alternative? Roll over and play fetch for Megatron?" Will snorted. "Seekers bow to no one, isn't that what everyone says? That you're stubborn pain-in-the-afts but you'd fight to the death to protect a trine-mate and your young? Maybe you used to be but you sure as frag aren't now."

Starscream's responding snort of derision was echoed clearly through their still-uneasy bond.

"Autobot delusions of glory and honour. Let Prime have them. We _permit _the Lord High Protector's little delusions as well. When they have fallen, when Optimus Prime is destroyed and Megatron is forgotten as nothing but an aside in history, _we_ still remain. The Air Commander ensures the survival of our kind, whatever the means. What do we care of the ground-pounders' fate? Seeker-kin comes above all else. We chose the victorious side."

"Then why was I brought back as an Autobot?" Will asked and continued before Starscream could speak. "If you're all so blessed by Primus and if staying at Megatron's side is supposed to keep your kind alive, then why was I brought back as an Autobot? If the programming you fragged with is so damn perfect now then _why_ was I brought back with the human personality still a part of me? If you were so right about it all, we could have been brought back as a Decepticon and with none of those worthless little organic thoughts left."

Starscream clearly had a well-developed ability to ignore what he didn't care for because he offered a strong burst of dark satisfaction through their bond. "It gave us Ironhide and the Hatchet. You spark-merged with that walking cannon. I will claim them as I claimed you and deny Prime of both his weapons specialist and his medic. Without those at his side, how long do you think the war will last? Days? Hours? Megatron should praise the name of Primus and his heirs on his _knees _and beg forgiveness for assuming himself superior to us."

It was an unwanted reminder of the empty parts of their spark where their bonds should be, of the painful liability he still was despite of everything and the Seeker's temper flared before Will could even think of reining it in.

"It also bonded you to a human by proxy. Not just to us, but to an actual, genuine _human_. Was that part of Primus' grand plan, too?"

_Sarah,_ small and fierce and relentless, who had managed to earn his Seeker's side's loyalty and protective instincts to a degree that only Ironhide rivalled, and then it didn't matter if part of it was born from Will's own feelings for her or not. Either way Starscream had caught part of that same affection through their bond, too. Whether or not it had been enough to become something permanent Will had no idea but whatever the outcome, even the feelings or images from Will should have been enough to rattle someone like Starscream. Will felt a strange, distant... tolerance for Starscream's trine-mates, too, an unwillingness to see them harmed, and if he had managed to pick up something like that from the fragger, there was a damn good chance that it had gone both ways to at least some degree.

If nothing else, Will noticed as Starscream's optics burned brighter again, it did a great job fragging off the Air Commander.

"Short-lived, organic pests!" Starscream snarled back. "Their lifespans are insignificant. Your organic will be gone before it ever matters."

"Still longer than your life expectancy when 'Hide gets his hands on you." And then something else clicked and Will gave a short, harsh bark of laughter. "Or Megatron. That's the problem, isn't it? You can't kill me. What good is an Air Commander when he can't even take down the one little Seeker the enemy has? If you could tell your trine-mates to do it, I would be dead. Could you even kill 'Hide? Ratchet? Sarah? Megatron might have you offlined for that before Ironhide ever gets the chance to. And all because you fragging well insisted on bonding with me. Didn't your creators ever teach you that no means no?"

And there was the hand again as Starscream's non-existent patience snapped and clawed fingers dug into Will's throat again – enough to hurt, enough to threaten, but not enough to cause actual damage, and this time Will wasn't even surprised.

"That bond should not have caused that. You know something, fleshling. You will tell me or I will _pry_ the knowledge from your unsalvageable processors."

"No," Will corrected, growing increasingly frustrated by the whole thing, "you'll try. Even if you _could,_ when you can't even offline me, there is _nothing there to find!_ You went through every Primus-damned memory we have! Ask Ratchet, ask Prime, frag, ask Ironhide for all we care – they know you flying bits of slag, we don't! I was _human_, Starscream. I was human and the Seeker spark I'm sharing with isn't even an adult in your terms. If you think we know a damn thing about what we're doing, you rattled your processors more than we thought."

Another item on the long list of slag to take up with Primus whenever they got the chance and-

- And there it was, Will realised a moment later and felt his connection with Starscream pick up on that knowledge as fast as it appeared. That was it.

_You know I can't order you to do this. All I can ask you to do is trust me._

They knew the cause. All they needed was to figure out what had actually been done.

The hard grip on his throat vanished, a confusing mix of _disgust-anger-annoyance-wariness _flooding their bond before the emotions retreated again and Starscream offered a patented sneer.

"Hearing voices you are not bonded to is not the sign of a well-functioning processor. Do you claim to hear the voice of Primus, _fleshling?_ Did your human influence glitch your processors beyond repair? I am surprised the Hatchet failed to notice but perhaps you were judged to be... easier to control without your full capabilities to command."

"I don't claim a fragging thing," Will bit back, halfway offended in an echo of what his Seeker-part felt. The human had its doubts, had always had its doubts and continued to do so even now, but the Seeker didn't care. It had made up its mind and not a force on the planet would be able to convince it that the voice had been anything but its creator and ultimately the hand behind the situation they found themselves in. "And more importantly, I never claimed to be sane, Starscream. I'm a Seeker. I think a little mental instability is pretty much par for the course."

"A worthless, glitched youngling, then," Starscream threw back. "Little wonder that the Prime chose to keep you without destroying your bond with me. What danger could a glitched youngling possibly pose to anyone but himself?"

There was something more in his voice, though, a ghost of hesitation that could almost be seen in his optics as well for a brief moment, and Will latched on to it before any kind of common sense could get a word in sideways; right or wrong or impulsive or not, it was a weakness and Starscream had precious few of those... and something, somewhere, kept nagging, kept pushing, kept whispering that it was important and had to be done even if they didn't yet understand why.

"Then tell me how I ended up in a Seeker's body," Will bit back. "I died as a human and woke up as a Seeker. Tell me how that happened, then. Don't you think we would have used it against you already if we could just snap our fingers and make more Cybertronians? The Allspark is gone. Something brought us back. Draw your own conclusions, I'm not buying you a map."

A flare of something in Starscream's optics was all the warning Will got before the overwhelming presence of the Air Commander invaded their mind again – less violent than before without the shields to tear apart first but no less painful or nausea-inducing as mental claws tore through memories and picked them apart until they were nothing more than splintered pieces in their mind. He felt his Seeker half snarl its defiance and try to holds its ground, was proud beyond words even if it stood no chance at all, and Will stayed stubbornly silent even as their mind flared, blinding and painful and every part of his head felt like it was being torn apart.

Starscream knew what he was looking for this time, clearly knew what he wanted to find, and Will found himself remembering every word exchanged with Starscream from a distance, every connection however faint, and he got the strange, almost invisible echo of the same conversations from Starscream's point of view through the fragger's own mind – bonds worked both ways and even if it didn't do him a damn bit of good now there was still something weirdly comforting about it. They weren't helpless. There wasn't much they could do but it wasn't all a one-way connection and whatever else might happen, they could still pick up bits and pieces from Starscream's processors themselves.

He lingered on certain memories – of bonds, of recent talks, of the blinding pain of the moments before Will had yielded and accepted whatever would follow at Starscream's hands – and finally the presence retreated after an endless amount of time that Will didn't doubt was less than half a minute when it came down to it.

"A weapon. A _virus_."

"Someone obviously thought you needed it," Will snapped. _And that someone was right_, he didn't add although he didn't doubt Starscream would pick up on it, anyway. It was true, too - the fragger himself was probably too far gone to be anything but mental anymore but at least he was a leashed one of the kind now.

Emotions and impressions flickered across the bond, whispers of uncertainty even under the anger and the strong denial, and Will didn't want to know what kind of convulsive leaps of logic Starscream had used to turn that kind of information into something that resembled support of him.

"And when your purpose is served, _virus_?"

"I'm a soldier." It wasn't an answer, not really, and Starscream clearly knew it, too, as something dark and dangerous and sickeningly alluring made its way across their bond.

"And the Seeker you share your existence with? Has _it_ had its say in those plans or did Autobot arrogance refuse to listen to what a mere Seeker youngling wished from life? Or perhaps they took the simple approach and refused to even acknowledge its rights in the first place, as if the war would have taught them the errors of their ways."

And if anything, that was a reminder of how dangerous Starscream still was. He didn't need to be able to kill them to be a danger. He had become - and stayed - Air Commander for a reason and he knew exactly what buttons to push to get the results he wanted.

It was flat-out manipulation but it also had enough of a core of truth in it to make the guilt take hold even if Will knew damn well that the well-being of his Seeker part was very low on Starscream's list of priorities. It was still the truth, whatever the motivation behind the words, and Will felt a wary nudge of _hesitation-anger-__**confusion**_ from that Seeker half.

What when their purpose was served, indeed. Will had never really expected to live long past meeting Starscream, and the Seeker...

He directed an unusually hesitant thought towards it in a soundless question and felt it fall silent for long moments before its presence flared back up.

_Home-mates-__**safe**_ was the firm response he got in return - him and Starscream, because the fragger snarled a moment later with another shift in his mercurial moods.

"Home? We _have_ no home! Cybertron is a wasteland from groundling hands!"

_"Home!"_ the Seeker snarled back and unleashed a torrent of memories with the words - of flight, of clouds, of oceans and deserts and mountains that only the human side had ever seen, and something else clicked in the back of their processors as the Seeker-part held its ground._ "Mates! __**Home!**__"_

Starscream made a disgusted sound.

"Autobot delusions," he said. "Do you think the fleshlings will permit you to live? When your mates have outlived their usefulness in this war, do you think the organics will settle for _peaceful coexistence?_ The Prime is delusional. They would strike against us the moment they could. At the most fortunate, we would most mercifully be allowed to _flee_ the planet before they struck."

Uncertainty from the Seeker, anger from Starscream, and then red optics narrowed at them and Will had the distinct, unwanted feeling that Starscream was looking at _him. _Not the Seeker, not their joined self, but _him._

"Ask your human. I dare you, _fleshling - _ tell me I am wrong."

Memories of meetings, politicians, arguments and debates and scientists, fighting hard to even get them to see the Cybertronians as temporary allies, much less actual beings – _friends – _with emotions and dreams and hopes, and Will's optics shuttered briefly in silent surrender.

He would fight it with everything he had, in whatever way he could, but in the end he was just one human – _and not even that anymore –_ and NEST was just one small organisation against a behemoth of a nation – _of nations – _that was wary of the Autobots at best and tolerated them only for the sake of the planet's protection. They had allies in the political arena but there were precious few of them, and NEST itself had always been a front-line, military operation. They were highly-trained soldiers above all else. They had nothing to do in politics.

"I can't," Will said quietly. The admission hurt like only the truth could, and even more so for agreeing with a Decepticon, but he wasn't going to back down. He could show that much of a fragging backbone, at least.

And whatever Starscream had expected, that admission clearly wasn't it. Surprise flickered through their bond for a brief second and then Starscream took a step back with an expression Will couldn't read.

"I had plans. For all of their vaulted _magnificence,_ Prime and the High Protector are predictable," Starscream said with a small sneer. "You ruined that, fleshling."

Flickers of things that had yet to happen, cautious plans and carefully monitored locations, and a few more pieces clicked into place as _intent_ carried over as well through their bond.

"You were going to let them hammer it out and kill the victor."

"And your infectious coding wrecked that," Starscream agreed – too calm and too agreeable, like a predator waiting to strike and it put Will and the Seeker both on edge like few things ever had before – and then his optics dimmed slightly in silent, dark satisfaction_. _"An inconvenience at the most. I _earned_ the place of Air Commander. If I am unable to offline you, Megatron will attempt do so and he will fall to your walking cannon and the Prime in the process. Perhaps I will even _help_ them. The bond matters little. Megatron will be nothing but a smouldering shell at my feet and with your fleshling self bonded to me but still _loyal_ to the Autoscum cause, Prime can do little against me or my trine-mates without causing him the loss of you in the process. You, and perhaps even your mates. As said, fleshling – an inconvenience at the most."

The words struck too close, too true, and Will felt both himself and the Seeker bristle. "And then what? You think we're just going to let you go after Optimus? You'll have to get past Ironhide to get through to him. Ironhide, Ratchet, and us."

The glow in Starscream's optics at that was anything but reassuring.

"There are other ways to control a Prime. They were always weak and pathetic; at the mercy of the whims of the ground-pounders they supposedly ruled. It took a _war_ to make this Prime worthy of respect and he is every bit as predictable as the Primes that passed before him."

Starscream glanced past Will, made Will shift in response, but before he could turn to see what had caught the Air Commander's attention something snapped bright and joyously in his spark and flooded everything he was with the presence of _mates_ and _there_ and _**his.**_

The sound of his name, instant questions and concerns and feelings of reassurance offered by Will in return, promises that he was _him_ and _theirs_ and no one else's-

- And Starscream felt it, too, and got a dark glow in his optics as he watched Will, something primal and all-consuming in his presence in a silent reminder of his power as Air Commander.

It would have been so easy to yield, to surrender and fall into willing submission and obey his Air Commander as was only _right-_

- And then the moment passed as the Seeker snarled at Starscream and Will's own stubbornness pushed the last of those effects away.

He halfway expected Starscream to shift into raw fury again but instead the fragger looked nothing as much as amused by them, as if they were nothing more than a kid or a particularly talented pet that clearly didn't know any better.

"Your... _allies_ are here," Starscream said after a moment and made himself quite clearly heard even over the heavy presence of two mates so sorely missed, voice fairly dripping with mock sincerity. "Let's introduce them to your new bond-mate, _Will._"


	48. Chapter 42

**A/N:** Review responses are delayed but will be handled tomorrow when the author can type straight again – many apologies for the delay!

* * *

The Autobots arrived to silence. Optimus Prime wasn't sure what he had expected – battle, insults, the roar of engines – but silence wasn't it. The loudest sound to his processors was the rumble of their human cargo planes, retreating to a safe distance away from any possible combat to keep from making a target of themselves, followed by the familiar sound of movement of mechs and humans; comm-frequencies, hydraulics, and the sound of ground-based engines that would be drowned out completely the first time one of the Seekers took to the skies again.

Four of them, Optimus noticed, and there were simply no words in the human languages to describe the seriousness of that sort of thing. Like the human term 'silence before the storm' had held no meaning to a species used to the controlled atmosphere of Cybertron, so did the instinctive Autobot reaction to most things Seeker-related pass by human understanding completely until they gained combat experience against the beings themselves.

On Cybertron, Optimus would gladly have chosen to face six Seekers in combat instead of four or five and even now, even knowing that one of the four was of their own faction did nothing to dull that first instinctive response.

Four Seekers meant that at least one of them did not have its trine with it. In actual combat that would mean time spent keeping an eye on whenever the rest of said trine _would_ appear because no Seeker was ever far from its trine-mates and they had learned that the painful way, too.

That the fourth Seeker's trine-of-sorts in this case was already by Optimus' side was not the sort of irony he had time to dwell on; not now and not with Starscream and his trine watching their approach with nothing as much as smug satisfaction. Optimus had known and commanded Autobot Seekers before. If given fifteen minutes undisturbed with Starscream and the rest of the command trine, it would have ended in someone's brutal offlining before backup ever had the chance to arrive. At the very least, said backup would have been greeted by the sort of spectacle of furious violence only Seekers on opposing factions were capable of.

They would not have been greeted by smugness from Starscream or the silent, resigned submission that was visible in the way William's wings were lowered and none of his weapons had been brought out despite the clear presence of same with Starscream.

He remembered for a moment all too clearly the fear he had seen more than once in their human-turned-Seeker - of Starscream, of Seeker instincts, of the knowledge that treason under Starscream's command was not an unlikely option - and then he pushed those memories aside. The Seekers, all four of them, had yet to fire a shot at them and Will had bound himself to Ironhide to a point that even Starscream couldn't break that bond again. That, at least, offered hope.

_"Ratchet?"_

And they had that on their side, too - a spark-merged mate and the knowledge to use that. Optimus was more familiar with Seekers than most had ever known but he also knew enough to admit to his own shortcomings. His experiences with them had been influenced by his power and status and their reactions to same, even ground-bound as he was. Ratchet had a medic's experience with them, someone who had lived and worked with them. It was brutal knowledge in some cases, meant to control and claim dominance, but it was useful knowledge, too, and that offered an edge they would not otherwise have had. Without Ratchet, there would have been little chance of their Seeker-human even surviving to reach this point at all. The Seeker spark could have taken over, they could have snapped, they could have defected or any other of a dozen unpleasant options.

William's wings shifted upwards slightly and blue optics focused on their medic as Ratchet apparently spoke to him through their bond - another good sign, even if Optimus preferred to hear that fact confirmed before he allowed himself too much hope.

He saw Starscream shift almost imperceptibly at Will's movement but he still made no move to target them and although his two trine-mates moved as one to cover a wider range if it became necessary, it was still clearly a precaution rather than an impending attack.

_"He's still William and the Seeker is still of our faction,"_ Ratchet said, _"but there are complications. Starscream forced a bond on them. Not to the degree of a spark-merge but bad enough. He won't be able to target Starscream or that pest of a trine of his. On a brighter note, the bond works both ways. Starscream can't offline him. He apparently tested out that fact rather thoroughly when he discovered that Will had been born a human."_

There was far more information hiding between the lines but they all knew Ratchet well enough to read it - a strong bond meant that Starscream now knew what Will knew, classified information or not, and while Will should in theory have been able to claim the same from Starscream, the fact remained that the Seeker-human was still too young and inexperienced to be able to do much when it came to that. A bond initiated on such unequal footing was for the most part a very one-way street.

It wasn't a discussion the humans would be privy to, though. The was too much that would need to be explained and they did not have time for that. They would be told what was needed. The rest would come later, when time and circumstances permitted.

"_Are we sure it's- it's a genuine bond?"_ Jolt asked with obvious hesitance. _"Forced bondings aren't supposed to be possible."_

He didn't say what he was obviously wondering – _are we sure he didn't agree to it? _– but he didn't need to. They all understood that much, too, and it was only luck that had let Jolt ask the question before Sideswipe could, and with far less tact and sympathy at that. The same luck let Ratchet respond before Ironhide could, too, and that was another blessing to be grateful for.

"_Consent is apparently optional when you are the Air Commander,"_ Ratchet replied and couldn't – or didn't bother to – hide the ghost of biting bitterness in his voice. _"And the line between brute force and mere... dubious consent is a fine one. Is it consent when your only decision is how much damage to allow your mind and spark to take before you have to yield? The bond is genuine, completed under duress, and far stronger than it should have been but Starscream was never one to follow the rules of mere ground-pounders."_

"_We all know Seekers were spawned by the Pit,"_ Sideswipe interrupted. _"Get to the important facts, Hatchet – if we try to take out the worthless slag of an Air Commander, how many of them will fire back at us?"_

The second of silence was far more telling than Optimus liked.

"_They bonded, Sideswipe. Will is still of our faction but if you try to kill a being he bonded with, he will try to stop you. He won't want to kill you and I don't think he would be good enough to do it, anyway, but he would try to stop you. "_

Bad news, even if Optimus had expected it on some level – Seekers were driven by very basic programming in matters related to mates or bonded beings – and it only got worse as a small alert bearing the insignia of NEST's human commander appeared in his processors.

"Megatron's approaching," Robert Epps' voice cut through the comm-frequency as Optimus responded. "Sir, if you want them taken down..."

_... it has to be now,_ their human commander didn't need to finish. Optimus' own scanners confirmed it - Megatron had been slightly slower than expected but then, even at his most furious the High Lord Commander had never been a fool. He had made certain he was not flying into an ambush before he approached, Optimus was certain of it. It was not paranoia, either, but - to be fair - only a perfectly reasonable course of action when dealing with someone like Starscream. Only skills and the potential reaction of the remaining Seekers had kept Megatron from simply offlining his Air Commander for treason in the past. Whether the same mercy would be extended this time was... unlikely, considered the circumstances. But then, they had theorised that often enough in the past as well and yet Starscream remained stubbornly online.

Either Megatron had decided that the situation was not a set-up or he had decided that it was an ambush he could fight his way out of if needed; Optimus knew him well enough to know that no amount of blind rage would have let Megatron fly into a genuinely lethal situation.

The sound of Ironhide's charging cannons mingled with Megatron's approach – ready to take the shot before he would have the chance to land even if experience told Optimus that his brother would easily be able to evade the shot, but something made him gesture at his weapons specialist in a silent order to stand down.

Ironhide looked unhappy but didn't argue. His cannons remained charged, just like everyone else around them gripped their weapons tighter, but he did not argue... out loud, at least.

Perhaps it was a mistake and Optimus should have let him take that shot but something else, something stronger, told him to remain cautious. The situation was volatile as it was and the loyalties of more than a few of the beings on the field were, if not questionable, then at least likely to temporarily shift the moment the first shot was fired. Starscream's plan, as it was. It would have changed slightly due to the unexpected strength of the bond but the satisfaction he could see in the Air Commander's body language left little doubt that he already had several backup plans at the ready instead.

"_There is one more thing you should know, sir,"_ Ratchet said quietly on Optimus' private comm-frequency – low, serious, and almost downed out by the sound of Megatron's engines, but with a stress on Optimus' title that he did not often hear from his CMO. _"Will apparently carried some sort of... changes to his coding. Starscream calls it a virus. I would be inclined to agree if it had not been for the fact that he and the Seeker spark were brought into being with those changes. A benevolent virus, perhaps. For all that Seekers have their problems I prefer to believe that whatever changes Primus made were for the better. I don't know what said 'virus' does and neither does Will, apparently, but it is likely behind the strong bond and Starscream's inability to harm Will... and quite possibly Ironhide and myself as well. Whether we will be capable of targeting Starscream's trine-mates remains to be seen but considering how much stronger the bond is compared to what it should have been, I would not be surprised if this was part of Primus' reasoning in the first place. I will leave it to you to decide if the information should be shared."_

Another complication, then, to add to the already existing headache of Starscream's bond, Megatron's arrival, and Will's entirely-too-subdued presence. He would not be surprised if Ratchet was starting to harbour serious doubts about the motives and faction-support of Primus and in truth, he could not blame the medic, either.

Megatron landed with a grace that Optimus had envied him since he had first taken to the skies – not with a Seeker's light, airy presence, but with a heavier – if just as graceful – stability that suited the Lord High Protector and reflected the deeper and far more serious nature of that responsibility. All Seekers were fickle, even the Air Commander for the most part. Megatron was not. He craved power and the reverence he had always believed he was due, ruled through violence and fear and with no place for the weak, but there was always some degree of sense to his madness. Once you understood him – and Optimus truly did, brother to brother – he was predictable. No less dangerous or unstable, of course, but his decisions, however strange they had at times seemed, always had some level of logic and sense behind them. The same was far from always the case with Seekers.

Megatron transformed mid-landing and rose to his full height but his cannon remained where it was and for now there was no more aggression in his stance than what was always present. His glance at Starscream promised painful retribution – Megatron was no fool and had doubtlessly worked out his second's plan as well – and it was a testament to how certain Starscream felt that his wings flared as far as they could reach in silent, smug refusal to back down.

Megatron sneered at Starscream and then turned his attention to Optimus himself, glancing at and dismissing every being, Cybertronian or otherwise, that Optimus had brought with him.

Whatever other problems Megatron might suffer from, a lack of confidence was never on the list. More importantly, painful experience had also taught them that this particular Decepticon had the skills to back up such confidence, even outnumbered as he had sometimes been. Too outnumbered in this case, perhaps, but nonetheless not an easy prey. Never an easy prey.

"_Brother,"_ Megatron offered mockingly. "So kind of you to return my Seeker to me."

* * *

The words made every instinct in Starscream's processors snarl. It was nothing he showed, nothing he cared at all to admit, nothing he should have needed to worry about since he had chosen to rectify the obvious flaws in his coding not long after they had allied themselves with the Decepticon cause, but now those instincts flared to life, anyway, in a moment of blind fury at Megatron's audacity to claim a Seeker as _his._

Seekers were free, Seekers were superior to any useless ground-pounders-

_(-and wings did not make a Seeker, did not make **skills**, whatever their fool of a so-called leader thought-)_

- And to hear one of _his_ claimed as property, even something as unnatural as a fleshling-turned-Seeker was enough to make visions of violent murder flash through his processors in blind desire to teach the Pit-spawned glitch his place.

Those were instincts they had all been born with, instincts he had chosen to temper with the more detached world-view that would be needed in war and change until they were something far more trine-focused and far less about Seeker-kind as a whole... and now he could _feel_ the code rewriting itself as it reverted, line by line into something vaguely familiar and almost forgotten that carried too many reminders of weaknesses they could not afford to have anymore.

Some changes remained, some reverted, some changed to something else entirely, and nothing Starscream attempted did the least to slow it down, much less stop it. It should not have been possible – he was the _Air Commander_ – but nonetheless it happened and every change in his own coding, Starscream knew, would carry to his trine-mates as well and eventually to every last one of the remaining Seekers.

Starscream was... unsettled. It was not a thing he cared to let show-

_(-and no Air Commander worth the rank would ever do that, not to his trine-mates and much less to worthless ground-pounders-)_

- but he had aeons of experience in not showing too obviously what he thought of their _glorious_ leader so that was little problem. It was a mask, like much else - not something that came natural to a Seeker at all but Starscream was the Air Commander and his abilities stretched far beyond what mere ordinary Seekers were capable of. Megatron saw enough to see him as harmless if annoying in his predictability, a pest at times but never a genuine threat.

The Prime and the Lord High Protector spoke, inconsequential, annoying sounds that he easily ignored-

_(-because Megatron liked to hear himself speak and the Prime was little better and Starscream had turned it into a true art to only deign to listen when it suited **him**-)_

- and he focused on the more important things instead.

The weapons specialist by Prime's side was dangerous but... leashed for now, through the fleshling Seeker-spawn, and easily dismissed.

The front-liner-

_(-as far from an Autobot as it could possibly be and with the reflexes to almost match a Seeker, and the pitiful being remained loyal to **Prime**-)_

- seemed to actually _consider_ if it should ignore its master's words and attack without orders, with a craving for battle that was far more Decepticon than anything, and Starscream sneered faintly at the being.

The smaller ones were dismissed – fast, armed, _pitiful;_ annoyances at the most and never a threat in the way the few genuine warriors on Prime's side could be.

_(The organics, curiously, nagged at his processors in something he only vaguely recognised as a result of his... unfortunate bond with the fleshling-turned-Seeker. Smaller and even more insignificant than the worst Prime could muster but still there was... something, a reluctant acknowledgement that they had a persistence and disregard for their well-being that Cybertronians were generally too intelligent to match and the knowledge that even unskilled and worthless as they were, they had quantity on their side. Not here, not now, but beyond the desert in fleshling habitats and quantity such as that did have a quality in itself.)_

And the medic, the _Hatchet, _with Seeker-programming and Seeker training that could so easily be twisted to Starscream's advantage and judging by muted feelings he could draw from the being, the medic was well aware of it, too.

A medic would be an advantage. He would be spared and reclaimed for their kind. To run from kin, to flee from his true loyalties was foolish and cowardly but... to be expected from a mere ground-pounder. Or perhaps the creature had simply had no wish to serve someone like Megatron and chosen the lesser of two evils, however much Starscream might sneer at his choice if that was the case.

He smirked through their faint bond, saw the medic's expression harden in response even as he tried to fight off the unwanted influence and Starscream mentally dismissed him.

The voices of the ground-pounders continued, flat and coarse and with none of the depth and beauty of a Seeker's words-

_(-as if creatures like them could even **understand** the beauty of Seeker language-) _

- and his attention lingered on his trine-mates, ready to deal with whatever threat might arise, vicious and skilled and _almost_ his equals-

- and finally his gaze ended on the wretched being that was the cause of it all in the first place.

Knowledge brought a spark-deep hatred for the creature in front of him, a worthless _fleshling_ that failed to grasp the magnificence of Seeker-kind – he could feel the energy in it, craving release and denied through ignorance or self-hatred - or even show proper gratitude of the priceless blessings it had been given, but instincts already worked against that. The creature looked, felt, and _acted_ like a Seeker, however reluctantly at times, and instincts responded to that in kind. The Pit-spawned bond had merely cemented that fact.

It was no matter. The creature could not be harmed by him, true, but it was under his control now, clearly stubborn but still something that could be manipulated and shaped-

_(-and Starscream would crush that weakness, as if any proper Seeker would allow itself to be **led** like that-)_

- And still there was something there, the fact that the being had wormed its way through Starscream's defence, a weapon and a virus tailored specifically to Seeker-kind, and it had all been the will of...

_...A Pit-spawned creature that will crush our wings and force us to the ground, too weak to survive and too pitiful to do anything about it,_ his mind snarled.

_And bowing to Megatron is better?_ the fleshling he had foolishly bonded to snarked back. _I thought Seekers were the true children of Primus and all that slag. Or is that just when it's **convenient** for you? He must be awfully proud to see you bend over and take it from Megatron. So proud he brought me back to let you know!_

Fury took over for a glorious moment before Starscream fought it back with a snarl. _Stay out of my processors, __**fleshling!**_

_You're the fragger who bonded with me._

_**You** are the worthless creature who fails to comprehend the gift you have been given!_ Once upon a time Starscream could – _would_ – gladly have torn any Seeker to shreds for speaking to him like that. Now...

… Now he probably couldn't even raise a hand against the fleshlings trine-mates to punish him if the virus-

_(-ever gnawing, ever nagging, brutally unrelenting-)_

- was anything to go by.

_But then,_ Starscream continued in a hiss, _what else could be expected from someone who follows Prime? Megatron, at least, permits us **freedom.**_

He had hoped for anger, emotions, delicious rage to blind the creature to common sense, but all he got in return was a snort and a shift in the weapons specialist's posture to reveal that he was probably listening in on at least the emotions, too.

_I heard your running commentary. If that's your definition of 'freedom', I'll stick to Prime. _He paused, then continued before Starscream could interrupt. _For an Air Commander, you're pretty fragging pathetic but hey, I'm sure Megatron appreciates your skills in 'roll over!' and 'play dead!' and 'beg!'._

He wanted to kill for those words, felt his fingers twitch compulsively as graphic images of violent offlinings flickered through his processors, but the words stayed, nagging and compulsive and unable to be ignored through workings that Starscream strongly suspected the virus was behind as well.

_It was war, _Starscream hissed. _War demands sacrifices. Even something as foolish as you should understand that. To remain neutral would be the end and the duty of Seeker-kin is to survive above else. You should all be intimately familiar with the concept of sacrifices. How many fleshlings have died uselessly in a vain attempt to challenge us?_

The responding cold anger was felt through the bond, too much like the _fleshling_ in its coldness and not nearly enough Seeker for Starscream's comfort, and there was a twinge of something almost like guilt that Starscream realised with a sense of dread did not come from the bond.

_Guilt,_ for the comment or for the dead fleshlings he wasn't sure – both, probably, because he was starting to suspect that it was a result of his _insistent_ search for information in the fleshling-turned-Seeker's processors and spark; an overwhelming care for the annoying pests and a strong need to see them safe, and now that same infection had been passed on to Starscream.

Bit by little bit, he realised, line by line, program by program – it was slowing down, he could feel that, too, but not fast enough for his tastes, no fast enough to keep from causing all the more damage until it went dormant. He was still himself, still Starscream, but there were images in his processors, lines of coding that he had not witnessed since before they had declared their loyalties, primitive and-

- weak.

The fleshling stayed silent, the Seeker spark as well, and Starscream took only the time to notice that the medic and one of the actual fleshlings had gotten themselves involved in the argument with Megatron before he broke the silence again.

_It is weakness,_ he said,_ the virus. You will see us destroyed, fleshling. Is that Primus' grand plan? To see us extinct as the ground-pounders continue their pitiful war until no one remains?_

_You seem to manage that just fine on your own,_ the creature drawled back but there was more tiredness in the words than Starscream had expected. _The All-spark is gone and Megatron is going to continue to throw you at us until something gives. It might be us in the end but how many Seekers do you think are going to be left by then?_

Starscream didn't dignify that with an answer and... _Will_ fell silent again, too, as they listened to the argument around them. No shots had been fired yet, Starscream noted. Megatron had kept his temper longer than expected. Him and the walking cannon both.

It was no matter. It would come. It always did.

He was so occupied with his own thoughts that it took him a moment to notice when his new... _bonded_ turned its attention back on him again and the creature seemed to understand that, too.

_What was your plan? _the fleshling asked in a strange, bemused tiredness. _After they supposedly killed each other. What was your plan? Take over, kill the survivors, end of the world as we know it?_

_Why do you care, fleshling? _Starscream sneered. _Will you stop me?_

He got the mental impression of a shrug in return.

_The Seeker part wants to know._ Another long moment passed and then the creature sighed. _So what was the plan?_

And Starscream in a moment of clarity realised that he honestly did not know.


	49. Chapter 43

**A/N:** Skywarp is a mix of movie-verse and G1 – aka 'pick and choose until he fit with his two trine-mates'.

* * *

"_Brother," Megatron offered mockingly. "So kind of you to return my Seeker to me."_

There were two certainties in Thundercracker's life and those were his trine-mates. Megatron was only a consideration for as long as the Air Commander – their trine-leader – deemed him someone to be loyal to – for as much as Starscream understood loyalty at all in concern to mere ground-pounders – and the War, for all that it had raged for most of their existence, had never been a certainty, either. There had been once when war had not been a concern and battle had been the focus, violence to protect trine and kin, mates and bonded. War had come later and late enough that Thundercracker actually remembered a time before. Some memories were clear, a far younger pair of Starscream and Skywarp a vivid image in his processors, and some were... hazier, perhaps, than they should have been. He knew this on some level but had never paid much attention to it. He took his cues from his trine-leader and Starscream did not consider those memories worth attention. They were weakness, he had once snarled in one of his moods, and Thundercracker had never pursued the matter any further.

It had been in the far earlier times of the War and there had been other things to worry about even then. It had not been easy to learn to cooperate with Megatron's troops – Seekers had not been intended to demean themselves enough to actually _tolerate_ mere ground-pounders like that for prolonged periods of time – and only the fact that it had been on Starscream's command that they had sworn loyalty to the Decepticon cause kept Seeker-kin as a whole from simply leaving when the ground-pounders became too much of a pain.

Some had left eventually but none due to the ground-pounders themselves. Those things became a minor annoyance in time and something all of them eventually learned to ignore, safe in the knowledge of their position as something skilled, desirable, and _important_ in the Decepticon army. The Seekers that had left had been no true Seekers in the first place, traitors that broke bonds and trines to bow at the Prime's feet instead and treat useless non-Seekers as _equals._

Thundercracker almost respected the Prime on occasion – and certainly the mech's skills in battles – but there was no force short of Primus himself that could have spared an Autobot Seeker once it came into Thundercracker's sight.

He had even spoken those exact words on occasion, too, hissed them into the audio receivers of his helpless prey when he finally struck, to savour the fear and spark-deep desperation that followed before that spark was extinguished and returned to its creator as the miserable failure it was.

He had spoken those words as a taunt but now he found himself witnessing it before his optics and the overwhelming anger of his trine-leader's continued failure to simply offline the Autobot creature in his grasp.

It should have been, Thundercracker knew, a simply exercise. Seekers were as easy to kill as any other Cybertronian when you knew their weaknesses and Seeker knew Seeker best. Starscream had killed Autobot Seekers before, all of their trine had, but something now stilled his hand and made something freeze in Thundercracker's processors at Megatron's words.

"_So kind of you to return my Seeker to me."_

Except it wasn't, Thundercracker knew. Megatron's presence had not stayed Starscream's hand any more than Prime's had done in the past in the last moments of long gone Autobot Seekers' existences.

Nothing short of Primus could have spared a Seeker from the justified wrath of the Command Trine... which meant, Thundercracker understood with a clarity he did not fully comprehend or appreciate, that the young Seeker-fleshling was no more Megatron's than it was Prime's.

It was Primus', brought back by his hand and spared through his will alone, and that changed _everything._

It was not a conclusion Thundercracker believed his trine-leader was calm or stable enough at the moment to comprehend on any other level than as an added insult on top of it all. Skywarp... a searching inquiry through their bond brought back a mix of _confusion-frustration-anger_ that wasn't very surprising and while he, at least, would be stable enough to understand and listen, the processing power to actually comprehend it lacked. Thundercracker liked Skywarp – they had been trine-mates since they were old enough to bond, had learned at each other's side and adapted to the massive change a bond with the Air Commander had brought together – but his trine-mate would never be on Thundercracker's level in terms of processing power, much less Starscream's. He had been normal for a Seeker once, they all had been before Cybertron had been torn apart, but that had been a long time ago. Now, a lot went to control his teleporting abilities. He was more intelligent when that ability was offline and that to a degree where Thundercracker could actually _feel_ it but right now they had all prepared for battle – against Prime or Megatron, whatever may come – and that teleporting ability was charged to be used at a moment's notice.

It was very useful in combat. Unfortunately, it also meant that Thundercracker was the only one of them with even some degree of common sense and realism working for him at the moment.

"He was never yours, Megatron," the Prime spoke through Thundercracker's musings – unlike his trine-leader, he actually paid some small amount of attention although it never mattered that much. It never changed, when it all came down to it. It was merely old habits. He was supposed to act as his Commander's Second and if Starscream did not wish to listen to the ramblings of ground-pounders, Thundercracker was there to ensure he missed nothing of importance.

Never Megatron's, Thundercracker agreed, and never Prime's either... although at least the Autoscum had never claimed actual _ownership_ of Seekers the way that Megatron had on occasion. It was arrogance and overconfidence and had only been tolerated due to his position as Lord High Protector. Seekers respected power, even when wielded by mere mechs... especially when the mech in question was as powerful and influential as Megatron had always been.

Even as Lord High Protector, leashed by the expectations of the primitive society of ground-pounders and fated to be second to the Prime in all, Megatron had held power. Against all odds and safeguards, he had claimed it and used it ruthlessly and that, if anything, was what had earned him Seeker-kind, too.

Seekers sided with the winner, Seekers cared only for survival, and Starscream, whatever his numerous faults, had very few qualms when it came to ensuring that survival of his kind.

"He is a Seeker, Prime. They were always mine. Only the flawed ones came to you," Megatron sneered. "Little surprise when one considers the quality of your troops."

That would also imply more than a bit about the skills of the Decepticon side that the Autobots were still online, then, but Thundercracker ignored that. Ground-pounders did not have a Seeker's ability to posture through more than mere words and gestures and so they resulted to crude terms and insults instead. He didn't particularly mind. The words of mere mechs mattered little to the ego of a Seeker and he had hunted enough of the beings that any annoyance he might have left was insignificant. If they pushed too far, they would simply become prey instead and Thundercracker took great satisfaction in a good hunt.

Prime responded, some trite remark or another that Thundercracker had heard a hundred times before and he focused on his trine-leader and the world around them instead.

Experience had taught them all that Starscream's vision would narrow down to only the one point of his current obsession if left even the slightest chance to do so and Thundercracker had no doubt that such was the case now. It was an unusually strong tunnel vision to be capable of, even for a Seeker, and had been brought into being partially as a result of his increased top speed and partially as a result of Starscream's own personality.

It was not a trait that Thundercracker shared. As a good Second in Command, he was whatever Starscream needed him to be and someone to watch his back when obsession took over was high on that list.

A myriad of scanners kept an eye on the enemy – Autobot, fleshling, _and_ Megatron – and another large number watched over his trine-mates. Skywarp had his back, the Prime and the Lord High Protector were momentarily distracted, and his Commander...

… was still focused solely on the fleshling turned Seeker.

No one had told Megatron about that minor fact and no one was about to, either. It might be useful at a later point and if not, there was still no reason to freely offer that information to anyone.

Starscream's anger took up most of their bond, enough to almost overwhelm the connection with Skywarp, but it was Starscream and they were used to such from him and so Thundercracker didn't bother to focus much on it at all.

He wasn't even sure where the strength of that anger had come from. True, the thought of a _fleshing_ turned into a Seeker, with fleshling thoughts and fleshling weakness to taint it, was disgusting at the least but stronger bits of programming focused nothing on that at all.

It was a Seeker, with Seeker coding and a Seeker body and Seeker instincts, and that made the creature _theirs._ That it had been brought back as an Autobot did not anger him as much as some would have expected. He had been up against Sideswipe and Sunstreaker often enough to respect their abilities and Ironhide was not someone Thundercracker wished to hunt on a whim, and in this case he could even understand. The fleshling marks on the creature's wings told their clear tale – he was loyal, remained loyal even in the face of the Air Commander, and to have something like that awaken in Decepticon hands would have been... disastrous, for all involved. For all of its faults and questionable origins the creature was still a youngling at the most and not something that would have survived for long in their hands if it carried Autobot loyalties at its core.

It was also not a thought that should have crossed his processors at all and he knew that, too. He had felt the change in coding that had been passed on to them from Starscream and there had been little chance to stop it, much less work out what it would do to them. Part of him – the rational part that most Seekers had little of, the part that was clever enough, _patient enough_, to draw out a hunt rather than merely give into killing urges – suspected that there was already foreign coding in their systems. They should not have accepted it so easily, nor should his Commander's bond with the youngling have been as strong as it was.

Then again, the youngling shouldn't even have existed in the first place which only reminded him that there were powers far greater than himself at play. He had never been the most devout of Seekers – Thundercracker first and foremost looked to his Air Commander and trine – but he had never been one to challenge a being that much more powerful than himself, either.

Starscream had never had the same hold-up and Thundercracker was vividly reminded of that at the insult directed at said deity that he received with perfect clarity through their bond and Starscream's obsessive rage.

A 'Pit-spawned creature that would crush their wings and force them to the ground' was perhaps not the best term to use about something that had managed what the entirety of the remaining Seeker race had failed to do for a long, long time.

It had purposefully brought a sparkling into being and Thundercracker did not for a moment believe that he would have done so merely to see another of their race fall in war.

He heard the fleshling snarl back – Starscream's obsession kept little of it all away from their bond – and something in his processors shifted uneasily. Starscream was Starscream and didn't always display much in terms of sense or reason at all but this was... different. The youngling had carried a virus and none of them knew the first thing about what it would eventually do to them, much less whether it had any further surprises in store... and most importantly, _why._

Primus had done this to them. The Hatchet, who knew them best out of all of Prime's, did not have the knowledge to do it and there was something about the coding that felt unnervingly familiar.

This, Thundercracker realised, was the way it had been _supposed_ to be. It was coding as it should have been and no one, Megatron, Hatchet, or Prime, remembered that anymore. Skywarp had forgotten - Thundercracker didn't even need to ask – and Starscream ignored it, and Thundercracker felt lines of programming fall into place and shuddered almost imperceptibly at the most obvious bits of it. He could _feel_ himself being rewritten – not much but all of it vital and most of it matching up to what they had done to themselves through aeons of War.

He didn't doubt that his trine-mates felt the same but he also doubted they understood the significance of it.

Primus had brought a fleshling back as a Seeker for the sole purpose of undoing what Starscream had done. Prime and Megatron and their worthless War would perhaps come later but the virus was Seeker-specific and that unsettled him more than anything.

Starscream could revert the effects of the virus in time, there was little doubt about that, but that left the question Thundercracker did not want answered: if they chose to defy this, what steps would Primus take then?

Perhaps he would merely give up on them and leave them to fight out the War alone, offlining by offlining until none were left, but if he had been willing to step in like that once and saw them just as willingly defy what he had given, who was to say that he would simply not settle the problem in such a manner that reversing the effects was not an option?

Primus had created them. How easily, then, could he remove them as well?

Unsettled by those thoughts, Thundercracker forced himself to focus on the situation and consider it again.

Primus would not have done this without a reason, this much he knew. The fleshling could have been merely a convenient vessel but the facts remained that both Seeker spark and fleshling could be felt through the bond, both of them arguing with Starscream, as well as the fact that Thundercracker and his trine had killed countless of the creatures before.

Primus had done it for a reason and for the first time Thundercracker forced himself to consider the being, _Will_, from an objective point of view.

He was young, couldn't even land properly, but age and lack of training and experience would account for that and that was something that could be fixed. He was bonded, with Ironhide and the Hatchet and a _fleshling-_

- And out of those three, Thundercracker realised as well, the _fleshling_ – for all that it lacked _anything_ worthwhile about it – was the one with the closest feel to what a proper mate should be.

He had picked out the memories through their bond as Starscream went through them, and while the walking cannon had loyalties split between many and the Hatchet would never have the ruthlessness for it all, the human _understood._ Survival mattered above all and that their youngling had marked Ironhide but carried the organic's soft little metal ornament willingly told everything Thundercracker needed to know.

Fleshlings as a breed were worthless at best but the affection their youngling Seeker felt carried over through their bond and however much Thundercracker knew the feelings were not his own, he couldn't help the glimmer of... something at the thought of the small creature that had apparently claimed a Seeker for its own. Approval, perhaps, of something strong and determined enough to know that the approval of lessors – even her own breed – mattered little against kin and mates, of something that would defy Autobot conventions and tell her Seeker mate to do the same if that was what survival took.

That small creature understood in a way that none of the Autobots ever did, that even most of the Decepticons would never grasp beyond the vaguest of ideas, and perhaps... perhaps their youngling would not be a completely lost cause with Seeker influence and something like her to affect it. It even had a home. An organic world, mostly water, infested with fleshlings, but... a _home._

It had been a long time since Thundercracker had been able to claim the same.

Cybertron had been home but Cybertron was gone and he was never one to live in the past. Home was a place you could one day return to. Cybertron would never be that again.

Sudden, painful _loss_ took over for an endless moment, twisted his spark with memories of skies long gone and places he would never see again, and something had clearly carried over through the bonds because Skywarp sent him the feeling of an unvoiced question and concern a moment later along with the soothing presence of a trine-mate that cared.

He wasn't sure if Skywarp would even understand but honesty compelled him to answer, anyway. He would not lie to a trine-mate, Skywarp least of all.

_The youngling claims this planet home. When could we last claim anything as the same? _

Skywarp's presence shifted uncomfortably through the bond – from the mention of home or Thundercracker's change in mood and focus he wasn't sure but he got the sense of understanding in return and that meant that he was at least not alone with those thoughts.

It would have been easy to blame on the coding but Thundercracker knew it had done little more than bring back what had already been there. It had never been natural to be so willing to leave home to fight a war, to see no new sparklings and kin brought into existence. It had made sense until now, still did on a conscious level, but something inside of him was already changing.

He could feel the Seekers left, his trine-mates the strongest and growing ever fainter until there was only the whisper of what could have been the ones still travelling in the darkness of space; unsure of their location and unable to communicate but at the very least aware that they were still online, and that had not been there even one recharge ago.

Thundercracker's programming was changing – against his will or not, it mattered little to the result – and he was rational enough to know that he would need to act on it, then. Things were falling into place; unnerving and familiar and daunting in a way that made even Seeker confidence falter, and even worse was the fact that Starscream would not have the reason to see it and Skywarp...

… Well, he wasn't actually sure _what_ Skywarp would do but a brush against their bond would solve that fast.

_Do you feel them?_ he asked and focused on the distant presences that were Seeker-kin.

_There are more of us than Prime's,_ Skywarp sent back but his words both felt and sounded uncertain. _Aren't there more?_

More than Prime's, Thundercracker knew that and knew just as well that it wasn't what Skywarp asked, either. Of course they knew in theory how many were left. They hadn't been able to feel it with their coding changed to minimize those bonds and stress trine-mates and combat instead and in truth, they had never asked much, either. They knew an estimate, that was all, but that number felt painfully small when they were finally able to feel those presences again.

So few. So very, very _few._

If they stopped now, if they lost no one else, if they spared that youngling, too, then-

- _Maybe_. Maybe.

_So **few**._

And something in his coding shifted and clicked in a way it would not yet be able to with his trine-mates, brought out dormant survival protocols and shifted coding until he _remembered_, until he understood who and what he was and why Air Commanders had always needed Seconds and Thirds they could trust.

Air Commanders were strong, brutal, clever, but _fickle;_ prone to impulsiveness at times and raw violence in a way that Thundercracker's carefully planned and savoured hunts had never been, and that was why he was there, then. Primus had undone the damage they had caused, had offered a second chance that Thundercracker believed they had only been granted as the true children of Primus, and they would not fail again, _could not,_ or risk seeing the last of their kind fall into oblivion.

Thundercracker had given oaths to Seeker-kin once as the Second to the Air Commander and he had failed them.

_TC?_ Skywarp, curious and concerned, but Thundercracker ignored him for the moment, tunnel vision taking over for once.

The Prime was weak, soft, _generous;_ he would accept an offer of a truce for a shared planet – they would need to leave the fleshlings alone, of course, but there was little sport in hunting them, anyway; they would need to find somewhere that could be _theirs,_ away from interference-

_Thunder?_

- And the fleshlings would doubtlessly interfere, warring, territorial little creatures that they were, but he could force the Prime into dealing with that or let them do as they saw fit in retaliation-

_Thundercracker!_

- And finally Thundercracker snapped out of it to the sound of his trine-mate's voice, offered instinctive reassurance that he was perfectly well, and then he finally felt what Skywarp had.

_Uncertainty,_ strong and uncharacteristic from their trine-leader and perhaps... perhaps that would be the final step. If Starscream had actually had an idea of what they would do afterwards, of anything beyond raw power, then perhaps they could have managed, perhaps they could have been victorious, but they were not.

Thundercracker had no desire to become Air Commander, did not have all that it took, but that didn't matter, either. He was Starscream's Second and he knew his duties, however much it might take out of him to do it.

He didn't want to but had very little choice. They were all trapped in endless patterns, slowly but surely leading to the end of their kind, and Thundercracker would not – could not – allow that.

It would take a gamble and carried a strong risk of failure but to do nothing was unthinkable. Survival mattered above all else and Thundercracker would not fail again.

The sound of his weapons retracting felt unnaturally loud among the voices of his Air Commander and the ground-pounders and the way too many optics suddenly focused on him told him it was not merely his own perception of the sound.

_Thundercracker?_ Low, deadly fury from Starscream – so quickly he forgot his uncertainty – and confusion but hesitant support from Skywarp, and then Thundercracker shifted slightly to stand taller and let his wings flare.

"A truce, Prime. This is... _home_ now," he began, the words difficult and the added _it's home now; it will have to be_ unspoken, "and we have a youngling. It has bonded with us. We will... not take it from its mates but we will not see it offlined in war, either."

_Treason is punishable by slow, painful offlining,_ Starscream hissed in Thundercracker's mind, _but perhaps I will have to settle for **painful** in this case. Explain yourself!_

Thundercracker knew Starscream and he knew his fury very well. Experience and their bond had taught him more about Starscream than anyone but his trine would ever know and he used every bit of it now as he lowered every last wall and shield in his processors and left his spark open to the fury from Starscream's bond. No deceit, no lies, no secrets; everything he was, everything he knew, and everything he thought laid bare-

- And Starscream mercifully _hesitated_ and Thundercracker did nothing to hide his spark-deep, grateful relief_._

_They will destroy us,_ Starscream sneered but the argument felt more like habit to Thundercracker than anything else.

_Then we will deal with that when it comes,_ he conceded and didn't add _or make alliances of our own_ at the memory of the small bit of decorative metal their youngling carried around and the creature that had laid the claim to it, but then, Starscream would already know. _They will not stand against your might._

_Was that not what our glorious Lord claimed as well?_ The words were mocking but there was almost amusement in them and Thundercracker's wings lowered almost imperceptibly as he responded to unspoken cues and stood down to his Commander.

The Prime had obviously noticed, though, because his attention turned to the Air Commander.

"Starscream?"

Nobody moved, too many weapons aimed at too many mechs, and judging by the burning glow in Megatron's eyes, someone would pay for it all. The Lord High Protector shifted fractions of an inch, too little for anyone to be able to afford reacting to-

- And then Skywarp's weapons were there, aimed solely at their hopefully soon to be _former_ leader and Thundercracker released the tension he did not know he had felt until then.

"You will not hurt my trine-mates," Skywarp snarled, and that was it, the support he needed, two trine-mates against their trine-leader-

- And Starscream _knew _it.

"My trine-mate speaks for _me,_" Starscream sneered, youngling and Megatron forgotten and his attention solely on the creature they would need to claim their home from. "_Speak, _Prime, before I change my mind."

And in Starscream-speak, Thundercracker knew, that meant victory.


	50. Chapter 44

**A/N:** Last chapter! Only an epilogue left to go now, which should be posted in a week as usual (or possibly earlier, if I get it done before Thursday). Thank you, thank you, thank you for sticking with this monster of a fic – for the reviews and the faves and the alerts and for reading it. You all rock.

Thank you so, so much to my wonderful beta, too, who has patiently put up with both this monster and me.

* * *

There were an abundance of words Megatron could have used to describe what he was faced with – _treason_ came to mind, as did _cowards,_ _turncoats,_ and _treachery_ – but he did not give in to the initial temptation to voice them and carve their price out of Starscream's worthless hide. The Air Commander was supposed to control its Seekers, and most certainty its worthless trine – but then, a Second in Command was supposed to be _loyal_ and if Starscream failed so spectacularly in that, then what sensible being would honestly expect him to do any better in his duties as Air Commander?

Retribution could wait. For the moment, he had far more pressing issues to deal with, the fact that he was outnumbered and the loss of the air support of his Seekers being at the front of those. Neither were things he could immediately change but then, he had not survived by being without skills or resources and unlikely odds could still be twisted in one's favour with the proper amount of competence applied...competence or sheer, dumb luck as his enemies' continued survival was ample proof of.

He levelled a look at Skywarp that would have intimidated any brighter mech into submission but did make a point of not moving any further. No one had ever accused Skywarp of having much in terms of sense and - regretfully at the moment – that lack of sense was backed up by weaponry and teleportation both.

However much he wanted to tear Starscream's miserable spark from his chest, it would have to wait, and instead he focused on the more important issues. Starscream had always balanced on the edge of treason but until now, he had never crossed that line to such a degree. To claim the loyalty of an Autobot Seeker and pin Megatron himself against Optimus Prime in one and the same move would be a reasonable motive for Starscream's act of treason but it did not explain the way he yielded to his worthless trine-mates.

His pest of a Second was also the Air Commander. That his trine disagreed with something should have no bearings on anything. They had argued before and had been overruled and yielded to their Commander. If Starscream had truly been against it, nothing his trine-mates could have done would have mattered a thing... which left the question of _why._

Something important had changed and Megatron was well aware that quite a lot rested on his ability to find that bit of information and _use_ it.

"Prime," Megatron finally said in a voice that was coolly distant and showed nothing of his anger, knowing well that ignoring Starscream worked better than any threats or insults ever would. "I would accuse you of stealing my Seekers but we are both aware that you lack the strength to do so."

Half back-handed compliment of Seekers in general, half insult that they would offer a truce to something so weak, and he could read Starscream's anger plainly in the tension of his wings.

Unwilling, then, but considering that Thundercracker had spoken first rather than Starscream, he should perhaps not be surprised. Had it been Starscream's idea and done willingly, Megatron suspected that his Second's response would have been a sneered insult back – about Megatron's own strength and competence, about the Decepticon cause, about anything he felt might possibly draw a reaction – but instead there was tense anger and no sign of the arrogant sneer that was so common from him.

Thundercracker's idea, then. Skywarp would not have thought of it, much less taken the initiative, but that still did not explain why Starscream had gone along with it and much less unwillingly so.

An automatic update somewhere in his processors told him what he already knew – that his ground-based troops were too far away to be useful to him in any way at the moment – and instead he turned part of his attention to Soundwave, in orbit far above.

"_Any further information on our treacherous Second?"_ he asked through his personal comm-frequency.

The response came instantly.

"_Seeker behaviour: abnormal. Repeated attempts to offline Autobot Seeker: failed. Bond with Autobot Seeker: likely."_

A _bond._ That had never stopped Starscream from offlining Seekers in the past but then, _something_ had to be behind his Second's actions and a bond would certainty explain the angry tension in those wings and Thundercracker's willingness to enter a truce with the Prime. That one and Skywarp had always been far more sentimental than Starscream – worthless as anything but wing-mates to a strong trine-leader and thus no concern to Megatron – so it would make sense that they would be the ones to acknowledge any potential bond of their trine-leader... and certainly a stronger-than-usual bond, if that was what it was.

"Megatron." Prime dipped his head in slight acknowledgement of the change in situation – there was an echo of respect in it, acknowledgement of the devastation the Slag Maker could cause if he so chose, and Megatron kept a cool gaze levelled on his... _equal_ as the mech continued to speak. "There have been Autobot Seekers in the past that would have disagreed with that. Their choice in faction was their own, as should be the right of _all_ beings in this War."

A nice reminder of the politics the Primes had always been raised with by the worthless sycophants and nobility that had surrounded them like Energon-vultures around an offlined mech. Optimus Prime had been no exception and Megatron knew well that only his own influence on the Prime – his choice to _force_ their stagnant society into motion – had turned this Prime into something even remotely worthy of the title.

Of course, war did other things to a being, too, and Megatron was not above exploiting any weakness he saw.

"And the youngling?" he sneered. "I assume, then, that it was offered a _fair_ choice in loyalties as well? It is, after all, much easier to ensure a Seeker's loyalty and independence from its rightful Air Commander if it is stolen and raised as nothing more than a winged ground-pounder."

The way the Air Commander in questioned stiffened at the words spoke volumes and was added to the rapidly expanding file of knowledge Megatron already kept about the situation. Barely suppressed anger from Starscream, anger and... _discomfort_ from his trine-mates, how _useful_ to know, but it was the reaction from the Autoscum that were the most telling at all.

Perfect calmness from the Prime, the usual rage and battle-lust from Sideswipe – both expected and both ignored for the moment – but it was the responses of the bondmates of the Seeker as well as the Seeker-youngling itself that told most of all.

He had expected anger and it was clearly there in Ironhide... but those distinctive cannons were aimed at Megatron rather than any of the Command Trine and that confirmed what Soundwave had already theorised. The walking cannon had bonded with the youngling - if Starscream had done the same, neither frontliner nor medic were in any position to move against his wayward Second without the risk of alienating their Seeker mate.

Starscream was, as Air Commander, the greatest threat to any Autobot Seeker however much Megatron disliked to admit that even to himself. Logic dictated that Starscream should be the obvious choice for a target, then. The only reason why Ironhide would choose any other target would be the inability to take out the primary one.

That the medic, familiar with Seekers as he was, did nothing to correct that choice of target told Megatron without shadow of doubt that he was right. The discomfort in Starscream's trine-mates and the tension in the medic's frame, however, also told him there was more to the situation that he had yet to find out and he turned his attention back to his fickle Second.

"You bonded with it, Starscream. If any, you should know where Prime stole his Seeker from. Or perhaps the Air Commander of Seeker-kind finds it _reasonable_ that a youngling should find itself alone on a forsaken rock like this." Mocking, baiting, striking where he knew Starscream would have no choice but to react and then turned his attention to Prime before his Second could even speak.

"Were its creators Autoscum so blinded by your words that they surrendered it willingly, Prime, or did you take it by force? We accounted for every youngling we lost in the War. Can you claim the same?"

Tension, discomfort – not just from Prime as expected at the insults and insinuations, but from Starscream as well this time; angry discomfort but most definitely discomfort... and echoed in not just the youngling itself but in the expression of the Autoscum around them and that was most certainly something to examine more closely.

"Perhaps it doesn't matter," he dismissed at the tense, continued silence and rested his gaze on Starscream. "I would wonder why the _Command Trine_ would willing ally itself with a creature that tried to turn a Seeker against its kin but Starscream never put much... _importance_ on such worthless things as duty and loyalty."

Move slightly, rest his gaze on Skywarp instead-

- And there it was, the glow of impulsive anger that Megatron had long since learned would draw the truth out of his Command Trine far easier than dealing with Starscream would.

"A _truce!_" Skywarp snarled. "We didn't ally ourselves with them and they didn't steal it or we would have crushed them!"

Starscream looked like he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill his trine-mate or Megatron first – a good indicator that whatever Skywarp had accidentally said had been important – and from the way Ironhide's cannons glowed fractionally brighter...

"Starscream?" Megatron commented with deceptive mildness as he turned his attention back to the underling in question.

There was a second of perfect silence as Starscream stared right back and quite clearly considered every course of action he had and then he straightened slightly, wings sweeping out behind him, and a glow in his optics that wasn't complete satisfaction with the situation but enough to pass as such to those who did not know him.

"It was a _gift,_ Magnificent One. Merely... _confirmation_ of the superiority of Seeker-kind. What concern do we have for the Allspark when we carry the future of our kind in our own sparks and with the blessings of Primus?"

Megatron's optics burned dark before he could stop it, a soft spot that Starscream was all-too-familiar with, but an unexpected voice interrupted him. Halfway recognised from recordings of Starscream and the youngling, half unfamiliar in the difference that those recordings would always carry against reality... and whatever else he might have thought of was forgotten the moment the words registered.

"Oh, for frag's sake," the creature muttered. The interruption drew several sharp looks, Starscream's included, but all of them were too late to do a thing as the youngling straightened and continued in a very un-Seeker-like way. "Major William Lennox, former Commander of NEST, and currently 'touched' by Primus." The creature made mocking little quotes with his clawed hands at the word 'touched' and then continued before Megatron's processors had any chance to catch up at all. "Just call me Will; there's no need to be formal when we've tried to kill each other before."

More than a few things registered at that - Ironhide's pained expression, the Hatchet's sigh, the Prime that looked suddenly tired, the mockery of their _Creator, _the Command Trine's uncertainty, the compulsive twitch of Starscream's hands – but none of it managed to take priority over the most unnerving issue of them all:

"A _fleshling?"_

The word was nothing as much as a dark growl, half threat and half promise of painful retribution at whoever had thought of the insanity in the first place, but the Seeker-fleshling-_creature_ just smirked – toothily and very, very un-Seeker-like.

"How's Blackout these days?"

Fleshling, Megatron's processors repeated to him and made him quite suddenly and disturbingly agree with the still-present, compulsive twitches of Starscream's hands that left no doubt that he would like nothing as much as to choke the life out of his new bondmate. A fleshling. _That_ one, at that.

"Offline," he growled, memories of losing a prized soldier to mere _humans_ clear in his processors. "As you should know, _fleshling._"

The wretched creature looked downright smug and Megatron turned his silent ire on Starscream instead. He wasn't sure how but somehow – _somehow_ – this was Starscream's fault, he was sure of it.

"Air Commander Starscream?" he asked, all silky threat of painful retribution. "_Explain._"

"You could just ask me, you know," the insufferable fleshling offered but before Megatron could tell him exactly _what_ he thought of that idea, Prime had already stepped in.

"_Major._"

It was not a suggestion. Prime could give orders, Megatron had taught him in person and by force both, but the sudden glow in the creature's eyes was not the response Megatron would have expected of any Autobot, not even a Seeker.

"_**No.**_"

And _that_, Megatron understood, was not the fleshling anymore. Perhaps an unrestrained Seeker, perhaps more, but not a fleshling, _never_ a fleshling, not a creature like that.

"_**No**_," it repeated just as firmly and stopped Ironhide in his tracks as he approached with nothing more than a look. "_**Enough.**_"

Burning optics turned to Megatron even as one clawed finger pointed at the Command Trine and for the first time in long aeons of war, Megatron felt genuinely disturbed by something. "_**Those are ours.**_"

Starscream looked like he was going to argue but Thundercracker's hand locked hard around his arm and the _creature_ simply ignored it all and turned its attention to Prime instead with no more mercy in its optics than it had shown Megatron himself.

The clawed finger pointed unnecessarily at the Hatchet and Ironhide and the creature spoke again. "_**Those are ours. **_**She**_** is ours.**_"

Perhaps Prime was less unsettled by it all, perhaps he had seen it before or merely had the need to obey as part of the programming given to any Prime, but in any case he at least managed a slow nod in agreement – as if, Megatron mentally snorted, the creature offered any choice.

Burning optics lingered for endless moments on Prime, on Megatron himself, and then that clawed finger found Thundercracker's figure with unerring accuracy even as those optics never once left the dual targets of the Lord High Protector and his brother. "_**You will listen. You will agree. Or you will face extinction.**_"

Those unnerving optics held their gaze for endless moments longer before the glow dulled to a mere ordinary level and Megatron felt the tension in his body reduced to merely a... healthy wariness.

A Prime unleashed, the archived had mentioned once when he was young still, was the weapon of a vengeful creator. He had looked at his brother, his _Prime_, and seen nothing of that in him, no glorious potential at all. He had seen glimpses later, rare visions in battle, and treasured them for what could have been.

Now, he knew, there was little doubt left at all. Perhaps the line of the Primes was no longer able to carry out the devastation of that weapon but the creator remained no less vengeful if pushed far enough.

And push they had, indeed, he realised with horrific clarity. Pushed beyond any sense or reason... and possibly, any chance of forgiveness, too.

"Will?" The Hatchet's voice, even low as it was, felt blasphemously loud in the silence that followed and Megatron did not need to strain any sensors to hear the response that followed.

"Six billion humans," the fleshling-Seeker murmured in a half-daze before mercifully bland, blue optics finally managed to focus on the medic. "Some of them would have to be suitable."

Indeed.

The threat hung heavily over their heads and even Megatron couldn't keep the unease he felt from showing completely as he turned his attention to his brother and forcibly pushed the shock out of his processors.

He had always held a certain appreciation of the idea of peace through superior firepower but that made it no easier when he finally found the theory of it applied against himself.

"Truce?" Optimus Prime spoke softly – not weak, not reverent but stunned, most likely, by the revelation and reminder of his own place in it all.

Weighed and found wanting. It was not a pleasant thought.

"Truce," the Lord High Protector agreed.

In the end, he could do no less.


	51. Epilogue

**A/N:** Thank you so much to all of you for sticking with this monster for 200k+ words and just shy of a year. The fic, uh, obviously got quite a bit longer than I'd expected (apparently, getting from point A to point B isn't that easy when your main character decides to be stubborn about it. Who knew? *cough*). I appreciate every review, fave, and alert I got – readers are the stuff of awesome and the perfect motivation on the Thursdays when I dragged my feet about a chapter.

And thank you again to my endlessly patient beta/plot-wall, without whom the fic wouldn't have been half of what it is. Any science-fail can be blamed solely on the author.

* * *

Space was dark above Diego Garcia. One hundred and ninety miles up and with nothing but endless, dark water and clouds below, space was black and endless and dotted by a million stars and galaxies and the thin sliver of the waning Moon.

If it had been daylight, it would have been the planet below they would have focused on but now, high above the Indian Ocean and in the dead of the night, the heavens were what had their attention.

They had looked like bright dots once, the stars, when he had still been human. Human eyes had seen bright sparks in the darkness and hadn't known or cared if they had been stars or galaxies or comets or something else entirely. The Seeker was different. Cybertronian processors saw distance where Will had seen none, saw a canvas of time where constellations had been before and could have told him how many of them were already long gone with only their light remaining if Will had cared to ask.

He hadn't. Hadn't the first time they had flown into the night like that and truly seen it and didn't care enough to do now, either. It was another part of his humanity he would never get back but in this case, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not now and not with Sarah there to see it for him.

"It's beautiful," she said softly. "I never knew there could be that many stars."

They were dimmed slightly by the gold-tinted glass of the cockpit but it still didn't take away the sheer, overwhelming amount of lights above them and Will had known that, too, when he had let night-time and normal flight hours and altitudes be fragged and flat-out told them that he would do it with their permission or without. None of them had liked it – as if he would let any harm come to her if he could at all stop it; as if night or day would make a frag of a difference two hundred miles up if – God, Primus, or whoever else might be listening forbid - he _did_ fail to keep her safe – but in the end they had caved because there was nothing they realistically _could_ do and Starscream's trine had been about to get involved as a matter of principle and for the chance to annoy Optimus and no one had wanted that.

The end result had been clearance for space flight, for actually carrying humans into the thermosphere. Will had learned as much as he could about the science and even if he only grasped a fragment of the alien part of it – science told him he should not be able to fly at those altitudes with the limited speed he was capable of; experience told him quite differently – he did his best and for all that there were a million things to remember that had never been an issue as a Cybertronian, he learned and remembered and proved that they could do it with unwavering attention to their human passenger.

Epps, Graham, a few of the braver ones – _dumber ones, _Ratchet had snorted – had offered to try a test-flight first, to see how Will and the Seeker both handled it in reality but that plan had been vetoed before it could ever be more than an enthusiastic suggestion. Will could and would and had guaranteed Sarah's safety with his life and spark, had proven through every test that Ratchet could think of that he could keep it, too, but there would be no such promise with anyone else. Not for now, at least. Possibly not until Annabelle was old enough that Will and the Seeker both were willing to relent and accept that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't the tiny little girl to be protected anymore.

Although really, Will wasn't averse to making an extra effort for Epps. Someone in the Air Force might even be able to appreciate the sort of things a Seeker could pull off, although it would take a lot more training to get the right balance between 'fun, if crazy' and 'potentially fatal to a human being'. He was _careful_ with Sarah. Epps would be insulted if Will or the Seeker made that same effort for him.

But that was for later. Now was for his wife, his _mate,_ curled up in the cockpit and wrapped in seatbelts and a shoulder harness she wouldn't need in his hands and looking at the endless night-sky above them that spread out in perfect, undisturbed silence. There were satellites up there, Will knew – satellites and Soundwave, although he preferred not to think about that or how many other mechs and humans that were keeping a close eye on him at any given time – but most everything else human-made was far below them. Planes, ships, cars; cities and highways and all the light-pollution that came with it.

One hundred and ninety miles up it was dark and that was what Will had wanted to show his wife. For all of the things he had lost with his human body, there were some upsides to it all, too, and this was one of them.

The Seeker preened silently at her approval and let blue flickers of miniature lightning dance under her fingers as she touched the glass of the cockpit. It was an echo of what it had done so long ago with Ironhide and Ratchet and their Prime, too, but... controlled this time. Lighter, gentler, and adapted to a human's body.

_Ours,_ it said silently, and Sarah seemed to understand because she smiled and brushed her fingers lightly against the glass again before she focused on the world outside once more.

Silence fell as the world moved by below them and then Sarah smiled again, a small, impish half-smile, half-smirk that was so very familiar to the human part of him.

"How much of NEST did you send into panic by doing this?"

The Seeker felt decidedly _smug_ at that thought - the world, after all, should pay attention when it did something and certainly when it proved its devotion to one of its mates - and Will couldn't quite keep the smirk from his voice when he responded.

"I think they prefer to call it 'high alert'."

Not that it mattered. He had told them he would do it and 'Hide and Ratchet both knew just fine that he intended to carry through with it. It wasn't his problem if they panicked, anyway. In his own personal theory, it just proved they didn't have enough to do. The truce, for all that it was still uneasy and somewhat flexible in its interpretation at best, still meant that NEST wasn't hunting Decepticons the way they used to – and that the 'Cons, in turn, weren't hunting them, either. By mutual agreement, harassment didn't count. You didn't just let go of that many aeons of warfare and 'pranking' didn't quite cover the stuff that went on between some of the mechs sometimes.

It still left NEST with the question of what they were supposed to do now – and, Will knew, an abundance of future political issues about the mechs' presence on Earth and just what to do with the Decepticons, for all that there was no way in the Pit Optimus Prime or Megatron would let any human have a say in that – but for now, they were kept mostly busy with new arrivals and helping that uneasy sort-of truce along.

The Command Trine, surprisingly, had been some of the easiest to get along with. Probably, Will figured, because everyone _expected_ them to be Seekers and so no one took it that personal when they got particularly offensive about something.

Like the bonds. Having Starscream in your head was offensive on principle and frag the thing about bonds and Air Commanders and whatever other slag his programming told him, because even his Seeker part didn't agree with that in those cases. Thundercracker and Skywarp weren't bad when it all came down to it – he had even introduced Sarah to them and while that particular meeting had been a strange mix of awkwardness and curious fascination, it had gone... not as bad as it could have, at least.

Starscream, though, fragging, flying _pest_ of an Air Commander...

... but then, Primus had apparently known that, too, because for all that Will had heard his vocalizer speak the threats to Optimus Prime and Megatron, that was all he did know – the threats. He didn't know if Primus meant them seriously, didn't know if it was just a bluff or if the God of the Cybertronians really was annoyed enough with all of them to just... turn random humans into mechs instead and start over from scratch now that they had somewhat proof that at least _some_ humans were compatible with a Cybertronian spark and could handle the process-

- And Primus had known exactly what he was doing there, because what Will didn't know, he and the Seeker couldn't reveal on accident... and more importantly, Starscream couldn't pick from their processors through the bond.

Sarah shifted in her seat and Will let the seat shift with her and mould to her body as she leaned back, tracing her fingers across the canopy to draw little, blue flickers of lightning again.

The Seeker was happy. Will agreed, with his wife-mate there with them and the illusion of a bit of solitude and even their bonds mercifully quiet for once as they kept up every mental shield they had, and comfortable silence settled as ocean became land and Africa flew by below them.

They chased the night at a mostly-sedate pace and could easily have kept in the dead of night until Will ran out of Energon, but eventually – seconds or minutes or hours later, Will didn't know and didn't care – Sarah shifted again, stretched to look down on the planet again instead of the stars, and drew Will and the Seeker from the trance-like state of flight.

"Beautiful," she said softly, dots of lights far, far below revealing cities in the darkness as the clouds cleared and turned the planet below them into something far more human and _home._

"I'll show you the auroras someday," Will promised quietly as the Seeker agreed – and they would, even if they had to chase from Arctic to Antarctic to find them, and Sarah seemed to know that, too, because she simply smiled at his words.

"We should get back before Annabelle wakes up enough to miss us."

And they should, neither of them could argue with that and Will felt the Seeker croon soundlessly at the thought of the small, fragile being that had them all wrapped so firmly around her tiny fingers.

They turned in a wide arch and saw Africa turn below them and then Sarah brushed her fingers against the glass of the canopy again and watched the world curve before them and the planet that was at once both immense and infinitely tiny to the human eyes that watched from nearly two hundred miles above its surface.

"How does sunrise look from space?" she asked softly.

_Beautiful,_ Will whispered through their bond and knew she would hear.

And as Sarah smiled in response, twin alien engines picked up thrust and shattered the silence behind them as they set course for a small group of islands and the break of dawn.


End file.
